The Reverse Thunderdome (or how I Resurrect Radio)
"Two men enter, one man leave" were the rules Aunty Entity laid down. Obviously, she was not a nocturnal biped like moi. As I age reluctantly, albeit, gracefully, I am fast becoming an insomniac, always looking out for the human race, Clark Kent, and Baby Dracula. So here comes the game change:
One man enter, two men leave.
It's called thinking outside the box. Dare to challenge established norms. Levitate, not gravitate. Work smarter, not dumber. [This space available for your malformed cliché. Call 555-1212, ask for Eddie "The Ink" Hephaestus. Or Buffy.]
Ever since the frontal assault by MTV's video on the radio star, radio has been fighting for its very survival. AM has been taken over by ill-disguised shills and FM by caped shock-jocks, and there is no soul to be found anywhere. No existential pun implied, of course.
What radio needs is what Twain was searching for in his closet: the fourth grace, the tenth muse, or in plain English, something shiny. The love child of Marconi and Tesla is on life support, and only I can be daring enough to bring home the panacea.
Here's the daytime line-up for Tuesday:
12:00 AM. Cricket. No, not the game, but the distinguished member of the Gryllidae family. Six mellifluous hours of art imitatinglife! The ultimate reality show, happening in real time. I hate to give away what I can sell, but here is a sample.
06:00 AM. Mime. Pronounced meem, and it rhymes with anime. Genius, isn't it? Mimes are plentiful, you can even pick some up at your local DMV. The idea here is to start your day with an hour of thoughtful reflection. A mime can do her "trapped inside a box" routine, encouraging you likewise to get out of your deathtrap, er, bed. Come to think of it, I may not need to hire anyone for this. Double genius!
07:00 AM. Driving in traffic*. A garrulous host who guides you through traffic, interjecting righteous directions like "You call that braking?!" and "Yes, you can cut into that lane, yes now...no, NOT NOW". Three hours of back-seat driving when you need it the most.
11:00 PM. Alternatives to the SAT. Educational. With limited commercial interruptions. This is where a soporific voice drones on endlessly--no, not seemingly endlessly, endlessly--instructing in the forgotten stone age art of carving out the right answer out of four with a chisel on a lifeless dolostone with a half-life of 13,000 years. Remember, if you can eliminate one, it pays to guess. In adults, it builds character, and an acute addiction to gambling.
01:59:29 PM. Off air. Or mime (encore). Siesta time for our European audience.
03:00 PM. Ventriloquism. Three sordidly robust hours to end the day with the art radio was created for. Eurycles was an anachronistic genius too, never recognized in his own time. Our kind never is. WARNING: PRECEDING SENTENCE CONTAINS SUBLIMINAL SELF-PRAISE. I am barely able to contain my guttural laughter as I imagine "Enter, Stage Left" being brought to life by a lifelike ventriloquist and his eclectic army of live puppets.
So what do you think? No, not of my unquestioned capitalistic genius, but of investing in this revival? Again, call 555-1212, ask for Bernie "The Pyramid" Madeoff, or Buffy, and learn how radio is going to make a comeback faster than the economy. Have your credit card ready. Or your neighbor's, I am not that discriminating.
And kids, you do not need your parents' permission to follow your dreams, you just need their credit card(s). You can call and invest as often as you like. Just like on American Idol. DO NOT HANG UP, because this investment is in popular demand, and may take a while before you get Bernie. Or Buffy. While you wait, you may get to enjoy the day's radio broadcast.
Alternatively, you can let me know in the comments why this is not the best way to fix the economy and save radio.
* Only for drivers with webcams installed in their eco-friendly SUVs, so that the host can see the road and guide you.