Wednesday Evening Fun in Vegas

We took two cars and 11 people to dinner at the Bellagio buffet. Las Vegas is a buffet town and Bellagio is the buffet against which all others must be judged.

We always look forward to the Alaskan King Crab legs, but they were only adequate this time.

I tried venison and buffalo along with some prime rib. Both were good, but I’m not sure I’d change from beef. It’s all in the preparation anyway. Properly prepared, nearly anything can taste great. A bad chef can spoil anything.

I’m not quite sure how Helaine does it, but she got line passes to the buffet. These are worth their weight in gold since they move you to the head of what can be an hours long line!

After dinner we said goodnight to Michael, Melissa and Max and headed to the MGM Grand to see Carrot Top.

Mention Carrot Top to anyone and there are two possible reactions. If they’ve seen him, they’re a fan. If they haven’t, they can’t figure out why anyone would want to see him. My mother was in the latter class – until tonight. Now she’s a fan, as is my dad.

It took a little longer than usual to get to MGM Grand. We drove in the back way but couldn’t seem to get to the main valet. We did find a secondary valet stand, somewhat out of the way, and parked there.

Carrot Top was excellent, but most of his act was what I had seen before. Still, it was great to see Steffie, Ali and my folks really laugh hard. He really does work hard and is very clever with a boatload of props.

I’ve said this before, but if you enter the words “Carrot Top shirtless” on Google, my web pages show up first. Very weird.

That citation is there because I noticed last year how Carrot Top ends his show shirtless. He obviously works of his body and is quite buff. I know that’s not the persona he shows on his 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials, but it is the real deal.

About 2/3 of the way through the show I started to take out my camera to snap a photo. It didn’t take more than 10 seconds before a security guard was over my shoulder telling me not to and threatening to kick me out if I tried again. That was pretty creepy. I admit I went to do it, but I didn’t get to take a photo before he arrived.

After the show we returned to Mirage, and I played a little more poker. This time I won $169. Actually, I won more, but I took tips to the dealer and cocktail waitress from my take.

Poker has been going very well. I am pleased with my play. Tonight I managed to win even though my cards mostly sucked. I only saw the river three times and won each time.

I am seriously considering playing tomorrow’s tournament here at Mirage. It is a lot more pricey than anything I have ever played before, so it will be a decision I’ll mull. It’s certainly within the range of what I’m prepared to lose.

My goal this trip is to come home with a form 1099-G. That’s what you get if you win over $600 at one time (like a slot machine jackpot or winning a poker tournament). I haven’t gotten there yet. Tomorrow’s tournament could be my best chance.

Continue reading “Wednesday Evening Fun in Vegas”

Father’s Day

What a beautiful day. This was a day for shooting picture postcards or travelogues. The sky was a pure blue without a hint of gray. The clouds were scattered and puffy. The air was warm and crisp at the same time.

Oh – it’s Father’s Day.

I’m not sure why we’re being feted, but we are. After all, in the hierarchy of parents, I think moms have it tougher. However, I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Steffie had handmade a card for me. Even at age 17, when she’s part child – part adult, this effort on her part warms every part of me. It is a collage – an abstract from magazines. It is a style in which she has shown great talent. I envy her skills as an artist.

Helaine bought me a few gifts: a book on poker (Doyle Brunson’s “Super System,” considered the classic in its field), cuff links made from small pieces of a computer motherboard, and a trip in a balloon over Las Vegas.

A good daughter-in-law, she got my dad that too. He’ll be joining me as we fly in wicker!

I love to fly. Once, a long time ago, I even took lessons… though I quit before I soloed.

I have flown in nearly anything you can think of from an ultralight with two chainsaw engines for power, to a Piper Cub J-3 with fabric covered wings, to a C-5A big enough to hold a Greyhound bus. I’ve had a few minutes stick time in an F/A18 with the Blue Angels and in a military full motion simulator. I’ve also flown through 2 hurricanes in a C-130 Hurricane Hunter (not as scary as you might think). There have also been flights in a few helicopters, one blimp and some time in Houston walking through a Space Shuttle trainer.

My first balloon flight was in the 80’s during my PM Magazine/Buffalo days. The pilot was Einer Wheel (a name you don’t easily forget) and the balloon was festooned with ads for a local Western New York bank. Later, with the SciFi Channel crew, I flew in the Canadian Flag balloon during a mass ascension at the Kodak Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta.

I’m looking forward to this balloon trip because it’s over Las Vegas (though probably not over the Strip), which will provide an immense panorama, and because it will be with my dad. This is the kind of thing he’d never do on his own and something he’ll really enjoy a lot.

This being Father’s Day, I went a little nuts and went off my diet. Helaine and Steffie took me to The Rusty Scupper for brunch. With today’s weather, and its location right on New Haven Harbor, it was the perfect spot.

Father’s Day ends at midnight. I’ll be dieting again tomorrow, trying to gain a cushion for our Vegas vacation. I was king for a day. It’s good to be king.

My Internet Connection S-L-O-W-S to a Crawl

Sunday evening, playing poker on the laptop, I first noticed the problem. My Internet connection would stop for a few seconds – sometimes 10s of seconds – before resuming. The poker site I play at allows you to check the connection of the others at your table. They were fine, I was not.

Comcast has been very dependable. So, I did nothing, figuring all would be well on Monday morning. Guess again.

Helaine asked me what was going on. Her connection was slow. Steffie later chimed in with the same complaint. “The Internet is sketchy,” she said.

Between the three of us we spend an awful lot of time online and we’re spoiled with reasonably fast connections. This was totally unacceptable.

I decided to call Comcast when I came home from dinner. I worked my way through the phone tree (press 1, press 2, press 1 again). My hold time was somewhere around 10 wasted minutes.

On hold systems have two options:

1) Incessant announcements (which drive you nuts when you start hearing them the fifth, sixth, twentieth time).

2) No announcements, just a little light elevator music. That was Comcast’s choice and it’s really not much better.

While on hold I wondered if I was really in the queue? Maybe I’d be listening to these European studio musicians for the rest of my natural life!

A pleasant sounding woman, from Central Ontario it turned out, answered the call. She made me jump all the usual hoops – reboot, unplug, replug, etc. She could see there was a problem with packet loss and offered to send a service tech, but the system wouldn’t let her schedule one. Could I call back later?

After work, and on whisper mode with Helaine asleep in the next room, I dialed Comcast again. As I was waiting for a live person, I scooted over to DSLreports.com to see if anyone else had reported this trouble. The Comcast Connecticut thread was four pages long! I had plenty of company.

This time a Canadian guy (I didn’t ask if he was Canadian – but I worked in Buffalo, just across the Niagara River from Canada and know their regionalisms, eh) picked up. He started to do his dance and talk about sending a technician to the house, but I stopped him.

The problem isn’t here, in my house. It’s far away at some router. I even know the router’s address: 12.125.51.34. It’s owned by AT&T and probably serves as Comcast’s connection from Connecticut to the Internet in general.

If I know this, why doesn’t Comcast’s tech support guy? Why spend money and send technicians when there’s no problem they’ll fix? Why not tell me loads of others have reported problems, we’re working on it?

If I asked someone high up at Comcast whether they wanted this fixed right away and wanted their customers informed, I’m sure the answer would be yes. They want the best possible result spending the least amount of money. Yet their actions show there’s a disconnect between what would benefit them and their customers and what they’re delivering. And, they might not know this customer service problem even exists.

There is no one served by what went on tonight. Not me. Not Comcast. Their phone people were polite and pleasant but never even brought me one step closer to satisfaction.

I really don’t want to have to call back on this tomorrow.

I Don’t Want This to be the Death Blog… But

It’s often possible to turn on the TV, and even with the sound down, know someone has died. Today, it was CNN, “voice of Mickey Rooney” fonted on the screen, and video of Tony Randall showing.

It wasn’t as obvious as the time Helaine and I were in the Carribean and stations that normally played ‘island music’ were all of a sudden wall-to-wall Karen Carpenter, but it was pretty obvious. Tony Randall had died at 82.

I was a big Tony Randall fan. He was one of those guys who seemed to make a career of playing himself – prissy, exacting, erudite, fastidious.

I’m not quite old enough to remember him from Mr. Peepers, with Wally Cox. I do remember him from some light comedies – especially Pillow Talk with Rock Hudson and Doris Day.

OK, I’ll admit it. I thought Rock Hudson was the macho one and Tony Randall gay. Oops.

Back in Buffalo, twenty some odd years ago, I got the chance to meet Tony at a charity event. I think it was for the Buffalo Symphony Orchestra, which would have been appropriate. He was a great champion of opera and other live performance arts. He seemed older than I had expected. His blue blazer and button down shirt looked worn. He was charming.

Tony Randall never dumbed down his performance. In fact, he played up his intellectual accumen. When he was on with Johnny Carson, or later with David Letterman, there was no doubting that he was the master of all he surveyed.

He didn’t have children until a second marriage when he was already in his 70s, much later in life than most people would think of raising kids. Stories I’ve heard today portray Randall as very happy.

His humor will be missed. His presence, mugging in some inappropriate sketch with Letterman, will be missed. He will be missed.

Best of New Haven

OK – it’s not the Oscar for Best Picture, but this is the ground on which I compete. I was thrilled to, again, win the “Best of” readers’ poll from the New Haven Advocate in the “Local TV Personality” category.

Best Local TV Personality

Geoff Fox

WTNH-TV, 8 Elm St., New Haven, (203) 784-8888

It’s raining, it’s pouring, Geoff Fox is winning the “Best Of” award for

Local TV Personality again. And why not? He’s been “local” for two

decades. He’s on TV, and he’s so damned personable. Whenever he walks

into a room, people want to chat with him, and not just about the

weather. Maybe about his incessant poker-playing, or his wife’s

obsession with soap-rocker Rick Springfield, or the computer he built

himself, or how he looks like he’s lost weight (He has–15 pounds, with

the goal of dropping 10 more).

Most of the time, Fox is the one starting the conversations, and he’s

out and about constantly–at charity events, school programs or holiday

gatherings. “I’ve probably spoken individually to every schoolchild in

Connecticut,” he grins. And they constantly come up to him to remind him

of those fleeting, yet important, encounters. Amid all this, he still

finds time to report the weather on Channel 8 weekdays at 5, 6, 10 and

11 p.m. , which makes his nice-guy-ness all the more amazing. (He

doesn’t go to bed until 3 or 4 a.m.)

This month marks Fox’s 20th anniversary with Channel 8. Before that he

worked in Buffalo, N.Y. a market where it’s pretty easy to predict the

weather, at least in the winter: SNOW. Geoff Fox is a guy who just keeps

shining and is never partly cloudy.

2nd: Dr. Mel (WTNH-TV)

8 Elm St., New Haven, (203) 784-8888

3rd: Ann Nyberg (WTNH-TV)

8 Elm St., New Haven, (203) 784-8888

Before anyone who was passed over, in any category, gets bent out of shape, let me point out that Quinnipiac University beat out Yale University for “Best Local 4-Year College.”

Blogger’s note: I am now down about 23.5 pounds and hoping to lose another 5 or 6 by July.

I’m Not That Nice

A few months ago, Elizabeth McGuire (no Lizzie McGuire jokes, please) asked if she could interview me for Hartford Magazine. Never the shy one, I said yes.

I have just read the article, and can now guarantee, I’m not anywhere as nice as she portrayed me. I am grateful, however, she lied on my behalf.

Only part of the article was on the magazine’s website, so I retyped it to place here on my site. Other than changing the spelling of my daughter’s name, and my length of service at WTNH, I’ve left it as is.

Hartford Magazine / February 2004

WTNH weatherman Geoff Fox doesn’t mind being call a weather geek. In fact, he finds it flattering. Fox loves the scientific process of predicting and forecasting the weather. “I’m the kind of guy who does like to look at lists of numbers, charts and gr4aphs. It’s a different math puzzle every single day, and no matter what you do, you’re presented with another math puzzle the next day,” Fox says.

Day after day for the past 19 years at WTNH-TV, Fox has pored over the maps, graphs and charts; analyzed the data; and then translated the information into “plain English” for his viewers. Fox gets two to three minutes during evening newscasts to tell viewers how the weather on any given day is likely to affect them. Without being asked, he answers dozens of questions such as, “Should I wear a raincoat, start that outdoor project or cancel that backyard picnic?” Fox says many viewers listen critically to his forecasts, and they hold him accountable when he’s wrong. “Believe me, people can be tough if you are wrong – and they should be, because other than the Psychic Friends Network, there aren’t too many people who come on television and predict the future for a living,” Fox explains.

As we sit at the kitchen table in Fox’s spacious Hamden home one recent afternoon, Fox explains to me that advances in computer technology have increased weather forecasters’ ability to develop more accurate forecasts. Suddenly, Fox excuses himself and leaves the room. Moments later he’s back with his laptop computer. There begins my tutorial on weather patterns. A map with curvy lines shows barometric pressure, one with splotches of color shows precipitation, and a pretty blue graph shows, well I’m not sure what that one showed, but it sure is colorful! Though much of what Fox explains is lost on my unscientific mind, his main point isn’t: The mathematical calculations and other technical information computers offer weather forecasters are essential tools of the trade. Like blueprints to contractors, or EKG printouts to doctors, computers make it easier for weather forecasters to be correct more often. “We can get more detailed information about what the atmosphere is doing… why it’s doing it… how it’s doing it…”

But once Fox comes out from behind the computer, he is able to deliver important information in an easy-to-understand, conversational manner. And he just about always throws some humor into his forecasts, often catching his co-anchors off guard. “I’ve always been the guy who told the jokes and made funny little remarks. And I think I have good timing,” says Fox.

Fox honed his timing during his 11 years as a morning-radio personality in Cleveland, Philadelphia and Buffalo. In 1980, Fox became the host of a Buffalo TV magazine show at WGRZ-TV. That’s where he became interested in weather forecasting, applied for a weekend weather position, and got the job. Fox realized meteorology was an area in which he could use his math and science skills. Fox says he was always good in those subjects and was even on the school math team as a kid growing up in Flushing, Queens, NY.

Even though Fox says he scored higher than 700 on the math portion of the SATs, he tells me he was not a very good student, especially in college. “I was in the accelerated dismissal program at Emerson.” he jokes. In fact, he flunked out the first time he attended the Boston college that specializes in communications.

He is now, however, getting straight A’s in his course work to become a certified meteorologist. He’s enrolled in a distance learning program at Mississippi State University. But most of what Fox needs to know to get a degree in meteorology he already knows.

After years of on-the-job training and watching New England weather patterns, Fox has a pretty good track record of predicting the weather. A classic example of getting it right was his forecast for the so-called “Storm of the Century” (as some television promotion departments dubbed it) that took aim at Connecticut the first weekend of March 2001. Most of the computer weather models were indicating the strong possibility of at least three feet of snow with blizzard conditions. But Fox didn’t think they were correct. He had been using a different computer model (maintained by a major university) during the 200-2001 winter season, and it had been extremely accurate. So, Fox was pretty certain the site’s calculations on heights, temperatures and pressures in the atmosphere were reliable. He stuck with his prediction that the storm would bring mostly rain, sleet and perhaps a few inches of snow. “If you’re confident in your abilities, you have to give what you think is best, in spite of the pack,” he says. Fox’s news director at the time questioned the accuracy of his forecast but then decided to trust it. Gov. Rowland, however, put his faith in the blizzard forecasts and practically shut down the state. The “Storm of the Century” never materialized. Fox would later write an Op-Ed piece for the New Haven Register that he was “hurt” by an article in that paper, which led readers to believe that all area forecasters got it wrong.

That’s not to say, however, that Fox gets it right all the time. Even after 20 years in the television business Fox says he is still “incredibly bothered” when his forecasts don’t bear out. “there will be times when I wake up on a Saturday morning and I will be upset that it’s sunny. If I said it’s gonna rain, than a rainy day is much nicer than a sunny day.” Fox has been know to apologize to his viewers on the air when one of his forecasts has proven incorrect.

In the family room of Fox’s house, the fireplace mantel is crowded with pictures of his 16-year-old daughter Stefanie, in various stages of childhood and Fox’s wedding pictures. Fox and his wife Helaine recently celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary. Next to the mantel, behind the glass door of his entertainment center, Fox displays his seven shiny gold Emmy awards – meticulously lined up in a row. He earned those awards for weather and science reporting. Along with his work at WTNH-TV, Fox has hosted a show called “Inside Space” on the SciFi Channel and has been a fill-in weathercaster on ABC’s “Good Morning America.” Fox says he would like to do more work for ABC because the experience was “cool.” He’d also like to host a game show but says those jobs would be in addition to his work at WTNH-TV.

When Fox isn’t working, he spends his time with his family, maintains his Web site(www.geofffox.com) with his daily postings and plays Internet Poker. Fox also does charity work, and his favorite charities include the March of Dimes and the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. Fox sums up his feelings about the charity work and accurate forecasts this way” “Look, I’m not living in a hovel. I’m not driving a ’65 Pinto, and the reason I have whatever success and nice things I have is because of the people of Connecticut, so I feel there’s an obligation to give something back.”

In Just 51 More Days

It’s around this time, every year, that I start getting antsy for Winter to end. Someone asked this afternoon, and a friend with the right computer program up and running quickly calculated 52 days (now 51) until Spring begins on March 20, 2004 at 1:49 AM EST (Not that I’m anxious or anything).

As with last year, this has been a gruesome winter. Cold spells have persisted. Snow has been plentiful. Those perennially cheery people who claim to “love the four seasons” have clammed up.

More than anything, for me at least, winter means being housebound. It’s not like I’m a jock or anything, but I like to get out. That’s so difficult to do. It is much easier to wear less when it’s warm than it is to wear more when it’s cold.

I’m not sure what the coldest day of my life has been, but I have a candidate that comes quickly to mind. I was working in Buffalo, hosting PM Magazine/Buffalo. It was the last shoot on the last day before we shut down for Christmas break.

My co-host and I were doing “ins and outs” for a show featuring a story about a “real” M*A*S*H unit. We went to Niagara Falls Airport, stood in front of an Army helicopter, painted in a camouflage khaki green, and did our stuff.

There were a bunch of elements we each had to do, standing outside in the frigid cold. You quickly learn, on the open airport tarmac nothing stops the wind!

After a while, my lips began to malfunction. I know that sounds silly, but it’s the best description of what happened. It got so cold that I could no longer properly shape my lips to form the right sounds.

Recently, one of our reporters at the television station seemed to suffer the same fate while doing a live shot on a brutally cold evening. I felt her pain.

As is often my custom, as the onset of Spring seems reachable, I fantasize about golf. I don’t think about my play – though I’d certainly like that to improve. I think about the first moderately mild days in March, taking my bag from the garage and walking the course. I live 5 minutes from a very pretty public course, where you can play on the cheap and walk if you choose.

How can I not get into shape by walking 18 holes, plus whatever extra distance is added by chasing after my (many) errant shots?

Every year I want to do it. Every year I say I’ll do it… but, I don’t. By the time I get into the swing of things (if I ever do) it’s too late.

So again, this year, I pledge to walk and get fit. I want Spring so bad I can taste it.

The Weatherman’s the Last to Know

So, here I am at 3:30 AM, schmoozing on IM with my friend Bob in Florida, when he springs it on me. The computer models are now calling for about &#188″ of precipitation on Monday, my getaway day. And, to make matters worse, it looks like snow.

The snow had been in my forecast, but as recently as Friday it looked quite minor, like flurries or snow showers. Earlier, it seemed like it might be a mix of precipitation.

This forecast calls for about 2-3″ for my drive the Bradley Airport (and Helaine’s drive home). And then there’s always the chance that flights will be delayed due to weather.

Depending on what’s going on later today, maybe I’ll give Southwest a call and see how cooperative they are?

My $222.50 ticket is now closer to $400, so they might not want to make an even swap. On the other hand, if they anticipate bad weather for Monday too, and how can they not, maybe they don’t want me hanging around in the airport.

Now that I’ve written all this, I realize that maybe I’m becoming a little bit of a wuss. After all, I lived in Buffalo. How bad can 2-3″ of snow be?

Radio Is In My Blood

I am not really in television – it’s more radio with pictures. Radio was always my first love. As a kid, I knew I’d go into radio (and I did). TV was an afterthought. Other than the actual skill of forecasting the weather, there’s nothing I do on TV that I didn’t do on radio first.

This is going to make me sound old.

I went to high school in the same building that housed the New York City Board of Education’s radio station. We were FM back when no one listened to FM. That was mainly because no one owned an FM radio!

WNYE-FM had an eclectic mix of educational programs. It’s tough to visualize today, but teachers in NYC would bring clunky Granco FM radios into their classrooms so the students could listen to, “Let’s Look at the News” or “Young Heroes.” There’s little in the way of TV today that’s equivalent.

Looking for a way to get out of conventional English classes, I became a radio actor for English class credit. I was cast in dozens and dozens of morality plays and historical recreations. I was young Orville Wright, Thomas Jefferson, Jackie Robinson (in that less politically correct time) and lots of kids named Billy.

In the morality plays, I often had lines like, “If I ride my bike over the hill, mom will never know.” By the second act, my arm was in a cast and I was sorry. In these shows, no transgression went unpunished.

All through high school, I listened to radio – listening to the disk jockeys more than the music. The disk jockeys were cool and hip and in control. They talked back to the boss with impunity, or so it seemed to me. They were quick and witty and sarcastic. I wanted to be a disk jockey.

Though I grew up in New York City, my favorite radio station was WKBW in Buffalo. You could only hear “KB” from dusk ’til dawn, but it boomed in like a local at our apartment in Queens.

The nighttime jocks on “KB” were unbelievable. Over time, there were Joey Reynolds, Bud Ballou, Jack Armstrong and others. KB Pulse Beat news with Irv Weinstein, who I’d later know personally, was a tabloid newscast, back when rock stations had to have newscasts.

This is not to say I didn’t listen to WABC in NYC, because I did. There’s little doubt that Dan Ingram is the best disk jockey to ever point a finger at a board operator. He was all the things that the “KB” guys were, but he operated within the more heavily produced WABC universe. At WABC there was a jingle for everything except going to the bathroom… and maybe there was a jingle for that too.

Back on track… must get back on track… where is this going?

In college, I knew I wanted to be like them. I wasn’t as cool as they were. I certainly didn’t have ‘pipes’ (the euphemism for a deep, throaty voice). Still, I wanted to be on the air.

At home, or in the car, I’d practice ‘talking up records.’ That means talking over the instrumental bridge that opens songs before the singing begins, and stopping on a dime, effortlessly, as the singing began. That’s called “hitting vocal,” and I was very good at that.

I started in radio at WSAR in Fall River, MA. I was part time, making $2.50 an hour. Before long, the company I was working for, Knight Quality Stations (some of which weren’t on at night, and none of which had quality), sent me to Florida to be program director at WMUM, aka – “Mother.” I was still making $2.50 an hour or $130 for a 6 day, 48 hour week.

WMUM was an “underground station.” Again, it’s a concept tough to understand today. We played everything without resorting to a playlist. It was some sort of misguided Utopian programming concept that never really took hold anywhere for long. But in 1969, at age 19, “Mother” was an unreal place to be.

We were hip and cool and broadcast from a building located adjacent to the parking lot for Lake Worth, Florida’s beach. From our studio, through the soundproof glass, you could watch the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. The beach was always filled with girls in bathing suits.

“Mother” didn’t hold its allure for long. Within 18 months, I had moved on to our sister AM station and then two other stations in the West Palm Beach market.

At age 21, I went to Charlotte, NC. There I did nights on a station that truly was heard from Canada to Florida. During my tenure, we even got mail from Cuba and Scandinavia. WBT was a classic radio station with good facilities, excellent promotion and nurturing management. I didn’t know how good I had it until I left.

I became a radio gypsy, moving to Cleveland and Phoenix and finally Philadelphia. I moved enough to qualify for the U-Haul Gold Card. I worked nights at WPEN in Philadelphia for a few years before moving to mornings.

We were a good AM station, playing oldies, at about the time music on AM was dying… rapidly.

I think I was pretty good at WPEN. If you’ll remember that this aircheck is over 25 years old, and I was more than 25 years younger than I am now, you can listen to it by clicking here. I really enjoyed what I was doing.

After a while we could see things weren’t going well in the ratings. A new program director was brought in to change things. Brandon Brooks, my friend and newsman on the show, came to me. Things were going to change but, “Don’t worry Geoff. They can’t fire you.”

I was gone within two hours.

My radio career never got back to that place. I continued to work, but it wasn’t the same. I finally ended up at WIFI, a top-40 FM station where I constantly worried that I, personally, was leading to the degradation of youth and society.

The scene played over and over again as I answered the hitline. I’d say, “Hello, WIFI.” On the other end, a young voice would respond, “Play, ‘We Don’t Need No Education.'” To me, it was like screeching chalk on a blackboard.

WIFI was my last stop before getting into TV. Still I miss radio nearly each and every day.

This is not to say I want to leave TV. I don’t. But, I do have this fantasy where I do radio in the morning and TV in the evening. That’s why, whenever someone from radio calls and asks me to fill-in or come on the air, I jump at the chance. It’s really an involuntary response.

It’s still in my blood.

The reason I’m writing all of this is because of someone I saw today at a charity event. I was helping present a check and toys to support shelters for abused women at the Verizon Wireless store in North Haven. A man walked up to me and said hello. It was Pete Salant.

I know Pete, though not that well. My sense is, Pete could go one-on-one with me with any bit of radio minutiae. It runs through his blood as well. In fact, with him broadcasting is an inbred thing, as his dad&#185 was a giant when CBS was the “Tiffany Network.”

Pete was known mostly as a radio programmer – and a damned good one. It’s probable, though I really don’t remember anymore, that within Pete’s career, he turned me down for a job… maybe more than once. I know he ran places where I wanted to work. Today, he creates commercials for radio station that run on TV.

It was good to see him. It’s always good to think about radio.

&#185 Pete tells me it was actually his cousin… and not a very close one… who was with CBS: “Dick Salant was my cousin twice-removed (grandfather’s first cousin), not my dad.” I’m going to leave the original posting as is, because I want to try and keep this blog as a contemporaneous record, but add the correction here.

Friends Doing Well

Within the past few days two of my friends have had significant career achievements that I wanted to mention.

I wrote about Paul, who I’ve known since 1969, winning a DVD award. Now, I have a photo to prove it. That’s Paul Brownstein with Dick Van Dyke (Paul calls the project the DVD-DVD) whose commentary, along with Carl Reiner’s, had more than a little to do with Paul’s win.

I also heard from Marcia Mule. Before I go on, let me tell you you’re mispronouncing her name. It’s Mar-see Mew-lay. Much better!

Marcia, and her partner, are producing a new series on Bravo, “Celebrity Poker Showdown.” There’s a subject near and dear to my heart. In the first episode, the two best players left early, beaten by a lucky hand. Unfortunately, the two best players were fairly big names, David Schwimmer and Ben Affleck.

Still, the show held my interest, though the poker was far from well played. Alan Pergament wrote a nice article about Marcia and the show in the Buffalo News.

I know Marcia because she was one of our producers at PM Magazine/Buffalo back in the very early 80s. I remember how nice she was then, and how nice her parents were. Back in those days, when I was willing to appear on TV without a shirt (I don’t even shower without a shirt now), Marcia’s family used to let us use their pool as a location. Those shoots were wonderful.

Marcia and I spent too many days in too many Dodge vans in too much Buffalo snow. I am glad that her production company is getting work and hope she’s making huge money and becoming very happy.

Darren Kramer’s Goodbye Party

Darren Kramer, half of our morning anchoring team, is leaving the station Wednesday. Tonight, a party was thrown for him at a local restaurant/bar. This place is 2 half blocks away from the station and I’ve never been there. Shows you what my bar life is!

Darren is a great guy and very talented, with a good job in Chicago now… but I wouldn’t have gone had I not already been here for the evening. I’m not a real fan of going away parties. And, in my 19+ years here, there have been plenty. It’s sobering to think that everyone, without exception, on our air staff when I arrived is long gone.

When I worked in Buffalo, our general manager (a sour kind of guy) banned going away parties because he felt it only encouraged people to leave. Whether that’s true or not, I always found it sort of funny. And, of course, he really couldn’t ban them (though we couldn’t post details at work).

Kristen, Darren’s anchoring partner, will now have to find someone else to sit next to.

This is very much like a marriage. Anchoring with a partner is a matter of synergies. Can the person sitting next to you play into your strengths? Will they… that’s probably more important!

Of course Kristen won’t pick her next partner. She will meet some of the applicants; maybe even cut a tape with them, though that’s not always the case. Someone, or a group of someones, will make the decision in secret. It might be tested in front of a focus group, or the decision might be made by the seat of the pants. Neither way is a guarantee – good or bad.

Hopefully, it will be the right decision and we’ll all live happily ever after. But, again, it’s like a marriage. Anything can happen.

I’ve known anchors who were the best of friends. I also knew one who told her co-anchor he had no talent, just as the theme music was playing, while they were sitting on camera. As I understand it, she ended her diatribe as the mics were getting ready to be turned on, leaving him no time to do anything but sit there and stew.

Anything’s possible

Late last week, my friend Harold told me he was taking this week off and that if I took a day off, we’d go to “The City” (Since I was a little child “The City” meant Manhattan which was treated differently than other parts of New York City).

Fine. I asked for, and received, Tuesday off.

But, what to do in The City? We talked about The Lower East Side (I am a knockoff watch whore and am looking for a new faux Breitling), getting tickets at TKTS and seeing a Broadway show, the Ansel Adams exhibit at MOMA and going to see David Letterman.

I have been a Letterman fan since the first time I saw him on The Tonight Show. When his late show began on NBC, I got on my knees and begged our program director at WGRZ in Buffalo to run it (which she eventually did).

Click to see the inscription from Dave

Around 20 years ago, Helaine and I went and saw a taping at 30 Rock. A friend who worked at NBC at the time got us into the studio early, where we shmoozed with Biff Henderson.

Letterman came out before the show and walked into the audience, looking for questions. Being right in front, we were tough to avoid. He called on Helaine and then answered her question, “What kind of makeup do you wear? My fiancee is on TV and his doesn’t look as good.”

When the show started, he made reference to the question and asked me what station I was on. Andrea Martin was on the show, but I don’t remember much more.

Of course, Letterman tickets are tough to come by, especially in the summer when his target audience is … at will, so to speak. So, I emailed my friend Mel at CBS. “They hate us,” he replied, making no bones about the Letterman staff’s relationship with the rest of CBS.

Next, an email to Aaron Barnhart at the Kansas City Star and www.tvbarn.com. Aaron has been a Letterman fan forever, and I figured he was connected. Anyway, I had just done a favor for him, so he was into me.

No pull.

But, Aaron suggested I go to the CBS website and put myself on the standby list. What the hell? It was late, the dog was chowing down, I had nothing better to do.

This afternoon the message appeared on my cellphone. Mitch at Late Night was calling, telling me they had a cancellation and I was invited. Assured seats, no standby. How cool is this?

All I had to do was answer a trivia question to establish my Letterman bonafides. First, how often did I watch? I told him 2-3 times a week (any more and too much Dave starts sneaking into my performance). My question, “Who is Alan Kalter?”

Damn! Alex, I’ll take staff announcers for $500.

So, Harold arrives at 10:00am. We”ll drive to Stamford and catch Metro North to Grand Central. And, we’re going to see Letterman.