The nice receptionist and I talked for a few minutes while Jason was making his way down to the lobby. I can't remember her name, but we spoke of gardening and the weather. She put me at ease when it was all I could do not to throw up and run screaming out the door. (*Side note: I need to get her name and send her a thank you card*) My heart was hammering in my ears. Now that I think about it, it sounded vaguely like the Jaws theme, except faster. So, during our lively discussion about the lack of rain, the inside door opened.
There stood a radio god. :) He wasn't all glowy or wearing a halo or anything, but still a god nonetheless. We smiled, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I could all be see the energy pumping off of him. I think he mentioned one time on-air that he was ADHD. Or maybe OCD. Whatever. Anyway, to get to the studio I had to go through the building with the admin offices and stuff to a smaller building in the back. I could only think, "Damn! He walks really frickin' fast!". It dawned on me later that he probably has to walk fast because there is nothing worse than dead air and a song only lasts so long. But, I digress. After power walking through the admin building we entered the studio building. It houses 4 (I think) separate stations. I barely got a glimpse at the downstairs before we were hoofing it up a narrow stairwell to the top floor. Impressions from up there are: a bathroom, a small kitchen and a couple of heavy wooden doors with small square viewing windows. As I approached the hallowed door, my breath caught in my chest. Childhood games of playing "DJ" with a boom box/tape deck flashed in my mind. I was about to go where no me has gone before. He entered ahead of me and held the door. With a grand sweeping gesture, he bid me to enter. (Okay, that part was made up. Probably.) Garnering all my nerve I stepped through the doorway and into...
Hmmm.... A room about as big as a cubicle. It was waaaaay smaller than I expected. I mean, I was thinking it would be as big as a gymnasium. I figured it would have to be that big to hold all that personality. :) The desk was "L" shaped and each side had a big microphone. There were about 60 computer monitors (slight exaggeration) and that button board thingy with all the slidey buttons (yep, reeeeeeeal technical, aren't I?). The walls were covered in autographed pictures of musicians, most of which I am not hipster enough to recognize. Overall, the room had sort of a controlled chaos kind of feel.
It was less than a minute before he had to go on-air and change songs. I thought he walked fast. His hands were flying over the button board thingy (I *really* need to find out what that thing is called). While he did his thing I got out my "research". I had rehearsed my spiel so I could lay it all out clearly and concisely. The moment I had to sidle up to that mic, every thought in my head flew right out the one tiny window. Oh, no. My worst fears are coming true. My mouth dried up. My palms started to sweat. I knew this would happen. My only coherent thought was, "Ohmygod". How was I going to be my <ahem> funny and charming self if all I could do was stutter and groan?? My next thought was, "S H I T." Not only am I about to embarrass the bejeezus out of myself in front of this dude, I'm gonna be mortified live. On-air. For the whole city to hear.
What? What's that? Ohhhhhhh... We don't do it live. So you're gonna record and edit it into segments and then play it? Awesome. I may end up making an ass of myself, but at least it won't be for a gazillion people to hear. (Bad enough, yes. But oh so much better than the alternative.)
That was the point where he just talked to me. Like a normal conversation. My previously scattered thoughts began to find their way home. I was able to form complete sentences. And my proudest moment? I said something that made him laugh. Like, gut busting laugh. "See?" I told myself in my head, "I can be funny. Sometimes. Maybe. Sort of." Anyway, he put me at ease and I was able to accomplish (most) of my goals.
For over an hour we chatted and laughed. I "suggested" that he not log on to Facebook without first logging on to Twitter. Also, that he link the accounts. That way, when he tweets, it will automatically post as a status update on Facebook. As our time was winding down, he did something A-mazing. He gave me his Twitter info so I could monitor his "progression" and also find people he should be following. People! Do you understand what I'm saying?? He. Gave. Me. His. Info. Me! A perfect stranger. He had to know going in to this little 'interview' that I was kooky. I mean, who else researches and presents reasons to be on Twitter?! No one, that's who. Of course, it's probably not that big a deal to him because he often lets Brad take over his Facebook.
We wrapped up with promises (on his part) to tweet and warnings (on my part) that I will be watching.
On an odd side note: He played 2 of the 3 segments on-air while I was in the studio. The other one, however, came on while I was on my way home. Do you know how odd it is to hear yourself on the radio? Lemme tell ya. Weird. Especially since I sound like a total dork!
And, because this experience has been the coolest, funniest, most bizarre thing that will (probably) ever happen to me, here is the audio from 2 of the segments.
This post was not sponsored by either Twitter or Hits 96 (@Hits96Radio). But, if either of them want to pay me for these fabulous words and general pimping, I accept all forms of payments. Seriously, though, a great big huge THANK YOU to Jason Walker (@jasonwalker965) for an amazing experience. You guys should follow him <now that he is actually tweeting>. He is a big ball of awesomeness, hilarity and bad assery.