Dave's Not Here
Nov. 30th, 2007 10:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI'd been struggling with what words to add to a provocative opinion piece I read yesterday about this week's violent death of an NFL player and its societal implications.
Screw it. I have none I could add. Read it here; it's good.
No, this will instead be one of those occasional dark linings inside the silver cloud of serendipity. It was one Thanksgiving ago, one week ago on Thanksgiving, when a Rochesterish friend of mine here made mention of Alice's Restaurant being part of her family's Thanksgiving memories.
It belongs to mine, as well, and a year ago on Thanksgiving when she first mentioned it, I asked her if Rochester's long-time classic rock station still played it that afternoon. She replied that WCMF did, indeed, still keep that tradition.
So this past week on T-Day, while the girls were out of the house at a movie, I went to their website to see if they streamed audio (they don't), but I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the true music fans among their airstaff (as opposed to that foulmouthed whackjob who's on in the mornings) were still on the air. One of them was always one of my personal favorites: Dave Kane, who for years held down the 10-3 slot (moved more recently to 11-4 when Wease decided he wanted to sleep in an hour), playing requests at lunchtime, hosting the Thanksgiving show with the Arlo Guthrie tribute, and always ending his last weekly shift with Jonathan Edwards's classic rant "Shanty," known to generations of listeners as the "Friday song." He used to end it with a clip from the old Cheech and Chong bit that said, "Dave's not here."
Well, as of 4:00 today, he's not.
In one of those Bizarro Universe moves among megacorporations, CMF got traded to one of the other three mega-radio entities in this nation, which already owned a bunch of Rochester stations (as well as the largest cluster of them here). As soon as the ink was dry on the closing statement, the pens moved to the pink slips and no fewer than four long-time Rochester radio icons, some of whom I remember from more than 20 years ago, were deleted. Kane-o. Dino. Marc Cronin, whose voice sounds like he swallowed a glass of gravel for breakfast but you just don't care. And some guy on the kiddiepop station I never listened to but couldn't help running into at ballgames and whatnot, he'd been there so long.
Dave, at least, is being given the unusual courtesy (at last report) of being allowed to do his final show today, to say goodbye to the listeners who will remember and miss him no matter what hacks get brought in next week. Their signal is blocked by Buffalo's 97Rots in this immediate area, and as mentioned (on account of other megacorporate machinations) there's no stream online, but I'm seriously tempted to drive to Batavia this afternoon, park in the Bob Evans lot, and just listen to his last half hour.
Probably including, for the last time ever, this song.
ETA. Didn't make it; I was still working out at the BAC until just before the end of the show. Didn't need to, though: apparently Eastern Hills is on enough of a hill to allow the WCMF signal to come in. Not that I plan to listen to it anymore.
Dave gave a touching farewell. He'd tried to reach Jonathan Edwards, performer of the Friday Song, for whom he's been providing 27 years of regular royalties plus sending copies of the song to expatriate Rochesterians. Alas, that was not to be, but he played a kickass tribute from his own son, which brought back memories of the show and station probably older than he is. You know, the ones I'd remember.
But he ended it with the most appropriate line, under the circumstances, from Shanty itself:
...fill it, light it, shut up and close the door.
Screw it. I have none I could add. Read it here; it's good.
No, this will instead be one of those occasional dark linings inside the silver cloud of serendipity. It was one Thanksgiving ago, one week ago on Thanksgiving, when a Rochesterish friend of mine here made mention of Alice's Restaurant being part of her family's Thanksgiving memories.
It belongs to mine, as well, and a year ago on Thanksgiving when she first mentioned it, I asked her if Rochester's long-time classic rock station still played it that afternoon. She replied that WCMF did, indeed, still keep that tradition.
So this past week on T-Day, while the girls were out of the house at a movie, I went to their website to see if they streamed audio (they don't), but I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the true music fans among their airstaff (as opposed to that foulmouthed whackjob who's on in the mornings) were still on the air. One of them was always one of my personal favorites: Dave Kane, who for years held down the 10-3 slot (moved more recently to 11-4 when Wease decided he wanted to sleep in an hour), playing requests at lunchtime, hosting the Thanksgiving show with the Arlo Guthrie tribute, and always ending his last weekly shift with Jonathan Edwards's classic rant "Shanty," known to generations of listeners as the "Friday song." He used to end it with a clip from the old Cheech and Chong bit that said, "Dave's not here."
Well, as of 4:00 today, he's not.
In one of those Bizarro Universe moves among megacorporations, CMF got traded to one of the other three mega-radio entities in this nation, which already owned a bunch of Rochester stations (as well as the largest cluster of them here). As soon as the ink was dry on the closing statement, the pens moved to the pink slips and no fewer than four long-time Rochester radio icons, some of whom I remember from more than 20 years ago, were deleted. Kane-o. Dino. Marc Cronin, whose voice sounds like he swallowed a glass of gravel for breakfast but you just don't care. And some guy on the kiddiepop station I never listened to but couldn't help running into at ballgames and whatnot, he'd been there so long.
Dave, at least, is being given the unusual courtesy (at last report) of being allowed to do his final show today, to say goodbye to the listeners who will remember and miss him no matter what hacks get brought in next week. Their signal is blocked by Buffalo's 97Rots in this immediate area, and as mentioned (on account of other megacorporate machinations) there's no stream online, but I'm seriously tempted to drive to Batavia this afternoon, park in the Bob Evans lot, and just listen to his last half hour.
Probably including, for the last time ever, this song.
ETA. Didn't make it; I was still working out at the BAC until just before the end of the show. Didn't need to, though: apparently Eastern Hills is on enough of a hill to allow the WCMF signal to come in. Not that I plan to listen to it anymore.
Dave gave a touching farewell. He'd tried to reach Jonathan Edwards, performer of the Friday Song, for whom he's been providing 27 years of regular royalties plus sending copies of the song to expatriate Rochesterians. Alas, that was not to be, but he played a kickass tribute from his own son, which brought back memories of the show and station probably older than he is. You know, the ones I'd remember.
But he ended it with the most appropriate line, under the circumstances, from Shanty itself:
...fill it, light it, shut up and close the door.