Art Lake, one of the originals at WJAR, NBC10 in Providence, died Sunday. He was 85.
I didn’t know Art, but I came across this in his obit in the Providence Journal, and it blew me away.
The TV station WJAR arrived in July 1949, and the first newscasts were anchored by Lake and Russ Van Arsdale.
In those days, Lake told The Providence Journal in 2004, he and Van Arsdale had to drink Knickerbocker Beer, one of the station’s sponsors, throughout the show. They stopped because they were burping through the broadcast.
This reminded me of my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Edward Convery. Mr. Convery was a proud Irishman who would stand at the head of the classroom at Memorial School in beautiful Framingham, Massachusetts, and tell Irish jokes.
One day, he professed his love of Knickerbocker beer to the class. This seemed perfectly OK, because in our little minds we were the upperclassmen in the context of a grades 1-6 elementary school.
He had the class repeat after him: “Nicka-bocka-beeah. Nicka-bocka-beeah. Nicka-bocka-beeah!” Go ahead, try it. It’s catchy. And when 25 sixth graders did it in unison, it was downright fun.
Of course, drinking Knickerbocker during a newscast and having a bunch of sixth graders say the name of a beer in unison would be completely unacceptable now.
While NBC served up the Eagles and Bears Sunday night, ABC had on the American Music Awards at the same time. It’s called counter-programming.
I had my manly man eyes on the football game, while Mmes. Keisha Grant and P.J. DeCordova-Boyd, our crack production assistant, were checking out the music. Or what the musicians were wearing. Or in the case of several women, not wearing.
Kate Hudson. Really?
The cue to look up at the monitor was every time I heard “What is she thinking?” coming from Keisha and P.J.
Kate Hudson (presenter) comes immediately to mind.
Fergie. Really!
When the Black Eyed Peas came on, the sound was turned up, and for good reason. They’re good. Especially Fergie. She’s gooooood. They were singing their current hit “Meet Me Halfway,” when I mentioned to Keisha and P.J. that I had recently bought the song on iTunes.
“You did?” [Incredulous looks on faces.]
“Yup, and it’s on heavy rotation (radio term) on my iPod.” [Look of smug pleasure I'm very good at.]
Listening to the radio on Thursday, I heard someone mention the Houston Texans of the NFL.
Lacking any truly meaningful thoughts at that moment, I wondered how many states would make acceptable nicknames for sports teams.
All I could come up with were the Virginians, the Mainers, and the New Yorkers (which is what Chrysler once called its top-of-the-line model that a family of five could live in comfortably).
Reading the paper Friday, I noticed the Courant devoted a fair amount of space to what we should be called. (See “lacking any truly meaningful thoughts” above.)
The Courant’s list: Nutmeggers, Connecticuters, Connecticutites, Connecticutarianites, Connecticutians, Connecticans, or Connecticutites (yes, a second time, so they must really like that one.)
While you ponder a choice, consider that (to me) it sounds OK to say Alaskan. But Minnesotan? Nah. Hawaiian and Georgian? Definitely. Dakotan and Tennessean? Not so much. Oklahoma, OK! But Oklahoman? Get in line with Pennsylvanian. Floridian? Meh. But then there’s Californian. Who’s to argue with Californian?
As for Connecticut, it’s just one of those states that has a name that shouldn’t be twisted.
Take it from a native Massachutonian. We’re not Connecticutarianites. We’re “from Connecticut.”
I hear The Voice on Monday nights as I’m driving home from work. He’s the announcer on Westwood One’s radio coverage of Monday Night Football. Not the play-by-play guy or the analyst. The announcer. As in, “Monday Night Football on Westwood One, brought to you by…”
The Voice is Barry White times two. The Voice won’t shatter glass, but it might cause foundations to crumble. The Voice won’t scare babies, but it might cause grown men to tremble.
There is a 35 year old case of jealousy working here. At my first full-time radio job at WAVZ-AM, New Haven (The Lucky 13!), an L.A.-based consultant had to approve my news shift change from overnights to mornings. I knew my voice wouldn’t pass muster. But disc jockey/techno-wizard Pete (Stone) Salant took one of my tapes, ran it through a magic machine (I never understood the technical stuff) which knocked the voice down a few octaves, and I was morning-drive bound. Pete now does this for a living.
What’s going on in girls’/women’s soccer? Opponents are beating the crap out of each other.
In Rhode Island this week, suspensions were handed out for a brawl during a high school game.
Two weeks ago, University of New Mexico player Elizabeth Lambert commandeered Sportscenter with a style of play that qualified her for the WWE Hall of Fame.
The Lambert makeover has already begun. Yesterday, there was a national mea culpain the New York Times. It was accompanied by this photo. This would appear the be the work of a very good public relations professional.
The subject was moustaches today on Colin McEnroe’s fine radio program, and having perpetrated lip fur on the Connecticut populace for 35 years, I was an honored guest. Well, maybe not honored, but…
My moustache went away in March, 2007. Its tiny remnants were washed down a hotel sink into the sewers of Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Future Anchormen of America Club. Member, 1974.
It died a natural death. Born as a thick, black Fu Manchu in 1972, it had withered into a scraggly gray lip liner. At the end, it registered as black on the air because I colored it with mascara donated by The Woman Formerly Known As Joanne Nesti. When she was done with a tube, I could get another 6 months out of it. Lancôme. Good stuff. But TWFKAJN departed, and shortly thereafter, so did my mo.
Among the other guests on the program was Adam Garone of Movember.Sounds like a terrorist organization, but it’s not, though their cause is revolutionary: promoting men’s health. Their shtick: grow moustaches in November to raise awareness about prostate cancer and other men’s health issues. (You can hear the entire program by clicking here.)
I’m all in, except for the actual growing a moustache part. Because it’s still there. A full, jet black Fu Manchu. Really, it’s still there.
Well, that’s the predominant color of Newsweek’s cover featuring Sarah Palin and her book.
I know Newsweek and Time are desperately fighting to stay relevant. But this? (And no, I’m not referring to her politics, so don’t even think about going there.)
It’s a repurposed picture from a magazine for runners! C’mon, Newsweek. That’s the best you can do?
This is the headline I saw when I clicked on the New York Times web site.
G.M., Citing Progress, Reports
Loss of $1.15 Billion
Yes, this is good news. G.M. will apparently start repaying its government loans in December, 5 years ahead of schedule.
I shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t understand how losing more than a billion bucks in a quarter is a good thing. Though I suppose it is better than losing two billion.
And please don’t try to explain. I still won’t understand. I just won’t.
One day, he professed his love of Knickerbocker beer to the class. This seemed perfectly OK, because in our little minds we were the upperclassmen in the context of a grades 1-6 elementary school.
