AMJOCK.COM Confessions of Brian Pierce, a morning radio disc jockey.

John Barger was a no nonsense guy. Barger was GM at Clear Channel San Antonio when I came onboard in 1981.  I was at WOAI-FM in mid-days for 16 weeks when they decided to change format.  Country was the call, and KAJA were the call letters.  The staff was cleansed except for Ray Zoller & me.  Barger yelled from his office down the hall for me.  This was the way he summoned you.  I stepped up and he announced I was gonna be the morning man.  My first task was to drive to Austin right that moment and grab a box of counrty records at KASE.  When I returned, I was to begin carting them.  I had reported for work that day at 8am.  I drove to Austin, got the records, returned and began recording them.  It was about 6:30pm when I took off for home.  I wasn’t there 20 minutes when the phone rang.  It was Barger asking why I wasn’t still on the project.  He ordered me back to the station.  I returned and continued recording till past midnight.  I should’ve anticipated that he’d want me there late, after all, he put in 100 hour weeks there.  I respected Barger.  I still do.  He was simply: Blunt.  One time he yelled for me.  He said, "Run down to the Whataburger and get me some lunch."  This clearly wasn’t in my job description, but he gave me a twenty - and off I went.  I forget if he offered to buy me a burger.  I think I’d remember if he did.  John Barger simply wanted to be surrounded by people as dedicated as he.  This experience taught me a lesson at an early age - you better give a shit - every minute of every day. 

I first met Jim Palmer in 1971 during a broadcast at a Goodyear store not 200 yards from my house.  My favorite station - WCVS - was there, and I wanted to see Jim.  He was about 45 years old, tall & handsome - with a deep barotone voice.  Back then during remote broadcasts - they actually played records on the air from the location.  This looked like a blast.  This is the moment I decided to pursue broadcasting.  My school day at SHS then was Noon-5pm because of overcrowding at the school.  This allowed me to listen to Jim’s mid-day program before school.  Jim had a segment called, "Quickie Quiz."  It was a simple trivia question with no prize.  The only prize was if you answered it correctly - Jim read your name on the air.   My mother, being the scholar she is, found the questions quite easy and always immediately provided me the answer.  I’d call Jim, and he’d ask how I knew the answer.  I always told him my mom told me the answer, so Jim would announce my name and follow it with, "with help from mom."  I did this literally hundreds of times until Jim knew my voice.  I loved hearing my name on the radio.  I auditioned for Jim when I was 15 years old at the station.  He appreciated my enthusiasm, and told me to come back later after school.  I chronicle this story on my webpage: www.pierceshow.com.  I landed a job working with Jim just after my 18th birthday.  Jim had literally watched me grow up and took me under his wing.  He considered me a project of his, as were most young broadcasters in the building.   Jims gift was channeling unbridled enthusiasm into something productive.  He looked over me and my progress from the get go.  He offered sound advice, and protected me.  He was a mentor in every sense of the word.  All the young people at WCVS felt "adopted" by Jim - as he had no children.  He taught us to love the business as much as he did.  We worked long and hard for Jim, for little pay - gladly.  In later years Jim told me I had made him proud.  I attended Jims funeral in November 2005 and was asked to say a few words.  That day I spoke for over 100 young broadcasters influenced by Jim the way I was.

WNNS was off the air.  It was a Saturday night about 7pm - 0 degrees, 20 below windchill - and blizzard conditions.  We weren’t sure why - likely a disruption of power at the transmitter.  The equipment that allows up to operate the transmitter remotely - wasn’t responding.  Obviously the back up generator power wasn’t running either. Here’s where the story gets good.  The engineer who handles this stuff - is 3 states away.  A decision to trek to the transmitter site is made.

To access the transmitter building, we need the door key.  We’re told (Kellie & I) - it’s "in a box" - in an office at the station.  We head out.  Arriving at the station, our master key doesn’t open the office door.  The only key we discover is 3 states away with the engineer.  The decision is made to "call a lock-smith."  We call, and wait.  He arrives and quickly opens the door.  We find the "box."  In it - we discover not a key - but about 50 keys - loose, and none of them labeled in any way.  The transmitter site has been there since 1980 - and likely the key is that old, so we select about 10 of the oldest looking keys, and head to the transmitter.  It occurs to both of us at this moment that neither of us has EVER BEEN TO THE TRANSMITTER SITE - and we’re now sure how to get there.  Remember, there’s a blizzard, it’s now 8:30pm - roads are dangerous and visibility is virtually zero.  Luck shows it’s face, when Dustin Hapley presents himself.  Dustin is a kid doin’ part-time at the stations and he’s about to leave for home.  He says, he knows how to get to the transmitter!  The three of us pile into my 4 wheel drive Suburban and head out.  It’s quite a drive into the country, down farm roads, with giant snow drifts by this time.  Normally spotting a 600 foot radio tower is easy - you zero in on the lights - but remember, there is no power so the lights are off.  At 5 miles per hour we creep down narrow snow covered roads and Dustin says, "it’s right up here I think."  We don’t spot the tower, but we spot the fence around the property.  We’ve made it!  Dustin & I set out for the door with our 10 keys.  Neither of us is dressed for this.  The snow leading up to the site is thigh high.  We wade through and make the door.  We try the keys one by one.  NONE OF THEM WORK.  AAAAAAHHHH.  I decide that possibly the door lock is frozen.  One by one we heat each key with a lighter held under my jacket (remember it’s blowing mike mad) - and try the key in the lock.  We’re up to about #8 when miraculously - the door opens.  We tumble inside and now two lay broadcasters are staring down 2 giant 50,000 FM transmitters and a generator unit.  Luckily the generator had a simple START button, so we pushed it to see what would happen.  It started all right.  Immediately the transmitter began to roar.  I couldn’t believe the sound it made.  Kinda like a truck.  The lights in the room and tower came on - and Kellie back at the road in the truck began to honk the horn.  This was her signal to us that the station was back on the air - she could hear it!!!  

Regular power was restored late the next day - and we were credited with saving about 48 hours of billing.  We literally risked our own butts to get WNNS back on the air.  This is the difference between a disc-jockey and a broadcaster.  

Mid 80’s in New Orleans I had one of the markets most recognizable voices.  I hosted a number one radio show, and was the booth announcer for the NBC TV affilaite.  I was thrilled one morning when my phone rang at home.  It was the production office at WWL TV.  They had a commercial for me to read.  I was flattered that they’d thought of me.  I asked what it paid.  They said, $1500.  I said, "Let me get dressed."  I showered, drove the 35 minutes downtown, and fought for a parking space.  I didn’t bother to ask what the assignment was.  My mind raced for an hour as I imagined what the project might be.  I just knew whatever it was, they’d chosen the perfect voiceover guy - me.  I entered the station and waited a while in reception.  Soon, they came for me.  I’m ready to give them their moneys worth.  This may after all, lead to more voiceover gigs.  I step into the studio and they hand me the copy.  It’s short.  Really short.  It dawns on me that I’d driven 35 minutes, and re-arranged my whole morning for what might be the shortest announcing project in history.  The copy read, "Now open Sunday Noon to Six."  This was a tag on a furniture store ad, and to this day I don’t know why they thought they had to have me for this project.  I read the 6 words, and deposited the check soon after.  I didn’t want them to reconsider and cancel payment.

This is one of my favorite stories - because it’d be one of my first radio stories. 

I hadn’t been in the business 6 months when on WCVS @ 6pm, I uttered the words, "Cosmetic Testicles."  I was accused of saying, "Rubber Balls" - but I defended myself by saying, "Nope, I said Cosmetic Testicles."  I was coming out of a newscast with the late Marty Wright.  That day I’d received in the mail - a catalog from a medical supply warehouse.  It was full of rubber hands and steel knee-caps.  As I told the story, Marty chimed in, "I bet there’s one thing that’s NOT in there."  I shot back, "Nope they’re in here……COSMETIC TESTICLES!"  I held up the picture in the catalog for Marty to see, and there was a man wearing strap on testicles!!!  We both laughed hard and I hit the song.

As fate would have it, the song I started was, "Red Rubber Ball."  If you’re old enough, you remember it.  I hadn’t planned this.  It was fate that was the next song.  I was too green in the business at that point to have considered this second punch-line.  The HOTLINE rang almost immediately.  It was the Program Director Jim Palmer.  He asked calmly, "Did you just say Rubber Balls on the air?"  I said, "No Jim, I said C.T.."  Without pause, he asked me to meet with him in the GM’s office early the next day.  

After sweating about 15 hours, I met with Ken Spengler & Jim in Kens office.  I thought my young radio career was over.  Spengler proceeds to ask, "Son, what on Earth posessed you to go on my family station at 6pm during the dinner hour and say "Rubber Balls?"  You know my comeback by now.  He said, C.T. or rubber balls - it’s the same thing - if you ever ever ever pull something like this again, you are history!"

I hadn’t uttered the word testicles on the air for 30 years - until just recently when I told this story on WNNS.  The Governor had used the word with the media - and I followed the discussion with a song.  You guessed it.  RED RUBBER BALL.

1979 Champaign, WKIO.  This was a hugely popular station with about 1500 fluctuating watts depending on whether the song you were playing had alot of bass or alot of pianos.  The tower was no more than 75 feet high and looked like a home TV antenna.  This was small time radio at it’s best.  I was the new morning guy and couldn’t believe the main on air studio was fitted with a $89 microphone.  Everyone on this station sounded bad - partly due to the microphone.  Mark Nakada, the night guy, always sounded good though.  One night, I visited and discovered he was using a different microphone.  Ahhhh.  That’s it.  I went to a local music shop the next week and purchased my own on studio microphone.  When I got off the air at 10am, I un-hooked it, and took it with me.  Much of the music I played were my personal albums.  This is just the way it was back then.  The station succeeded despite the technical issues.  My favorite moment was the day it rained and didn’t quit.  It poured for what seemed hours.  The studio was in a steel portable building and the transmitter was sitting on Orange Crush crates in dirt.  As the rain continued, the water began to rise beneath the crates.  The water rose as the transmitter sunk in the mud.  Then, just as we had about a half inch before the sparks flew, the rain stopped.  I was fired before I ever saw this operation cleaned up.  Every disc jockey has a story like this.  WKIO today is full power with a real tower, a real building, and no doubt, a decent microphone.

Jackson Browne came to see Bri.  As always, I didn’t have much advance notice - maybe 10 minutes.  Remember, this was waaaay before the internet - and my knowledge of Jackson Browne was limited to liner notes in albums, what I caught in magazines and what I saw on TV.  Jackson arrived looking tired and irritated.  I imagine he was.  His people probably encouraged him to do this radio bit to plug his concert that night - and he’d done this 1000 times.  I shook his hand and we got into it almost immediately.  Browne was in the tabloids that week - reportedly dating Darryl Hannah.  So instead of me asking the typical "How’s life on the road" question, I chime in with, "So what’s the deal with Darryl Hannah?"  He says, "I don’t wanna talk about it."  I say, "I really like that Lawyers in Love song.  I bet Darryl Hannah likes it."  He says, "Man, I’m not gonna talk about Darryl Hannah."  I say, "Easy JB, it’s everywhere about you two - you are a lucky guy.  Did you see Splash?"  He says, "Yes I did - and what I do with Darryl Hannah is my business."  "So you are acknowledging a relationship with Darryl Hannah?"  He says, "What’s your problem man?"  I said, "You come in here to plug a show I’ve been plugging for two weeks.  We all know you’re in town tonight.  Can you blame us if we’re a little interested in you dating Darryl Hannah?"  JB then walked out.  I asked Brownes’ manager if Darryl Hannah was gonna be there.  He said he didn’t know, but Hannah was at the hotel last night.  Jackson Browne dumped Darryl Hannah within weeks of this interview.  I imagine he liked talking about himself more than Darryl Hannah.

New Orleans 1984.  I’m flying down Airline Highway back to the suburbs after work in my company car.  They gave me a car with my name all over it.   It looked like a clown car, but that’s beside the point.  I ran out of gas.  The gas gauge didn’t work well and I was still getting used to it.  I coast into a Church Parking lot.  My car comes to a rest just outside the front door.  I plan on going inside to use a phone.  I see people inside pointing and sort of running around.  They’re pointing at me.  I just assume they’re listeners and will be more likely to allow me to use the phone.  I walk inside and am met with people shouting, "Praise God!"  I ask to use the phone.  A woman shouts, "You have been sent to us!"  What?  "You MUST go inside the hall sir!  You must go inside!"  What’s inside the hall?  This was no ordinary church.  This ministry had it’s own television network and was broadcasting live all across the south.  The subject of that nights broadcast was, "The Evils of Rock Music!"  These people were convinced I was sent there to repent for the music I played.  They wanted me to go on camera.  I declined over and over, asking instead to simply use the phone.  They allowed me to make a call, and within 20 minutes I had gas and was outa there.  I’ve always wondered if I was indeed sent there that night.  The song on my station when I ran out of gas, after all, was "I want a New Drug."

Ten years ago - almost to the day - Tickle me Elmo was all the rage.  Moms are calling asking where to buy it.  They were sold out everywhere.  I had a contact though. Linda, my next door neighbor, worked at Target.  She did some investigative work, and learned of one final shipment of 12 arriving the next day.  She pulled one out for me - I bought it - and had the hot toy to give away.  But how?  What was I gonna do?  We thought about burying it.  Maybe hide it somewhere and give clues.  Throw it out of an airplane.  HAHA.  That "crack’ - led us to what we decided to do.  We couldn’t of course, throw Elmo from a plane - but we could strap Elmo to a parachutist.  Simply announce that somewhere over the city was a small plane.  In seconds a parachutist will jump out.  be the first to "tag" the parachutist - and win the Elmo.  The day & time came and things went off without a hitch.  We landed Elmo on our cities busy west side on a weekday @ 8am.  The parachute was seen by thousands - who ALL knew what was going on - by the crowd gathered - and the ensuing rush.  The parachutist was literally TACKLED by a listener.  The TV stations were tipped off and the whole thing was broadcast on the news that night.  It was a cute promo for $35.  The Mid America Parachute Club in Taylorville came through for us that day and specifically Michael Ayers, who strapped on Elmo.  Tragically, Michael lost his life just a few years later in a parachuting accident.

1987. We have an arrangement with a local Boston comedy club to bring in their featured act each week.  I meet Paula Poundstone, Ellen Degenerous, Garry Shandling - and one Friday morning - Jerry Seinfeld.  Remember, at the time - Jerry was simply a working comic.  He was on the Tonight show frequently, so I knew his work - I simply didn’t realize what he was about to become.  Jerry was a good guy and easy to work with.  He asked what I wanted to do. We both agreed to try something different.  We pulled out our wallets to see how many one dollar bills we could produce.  Between my co-host, Jerry & I - we came up with about 15.  At the time, I kept walkie talkies in my office.  Every now & then they came in handy for bits.  I’d simply hold them up to the microphone and talk to whomever.  This day, Seinfeld took a walkie talkie & the dollar bills and hit the street just one story below my studio window.  I could see him clearly.  Jerry wanted to approach strangers and see if they recognized him from the Tonight Show.  If they did - he was going to give them a dollar.  So, walkie talkie in hand and live on WZOU - Jerry asked strangers, "Do you know who I am?"  The commuters walked on - head down.  "Brian, they won’t make eye contact!  They’re doing that look down when you walk thing!  God Forbid these people look up!!!"  He asks another, "Do I look familiar?"  "Why yes you do!  You’re David Brenner right?"  Jerry says, "Right you are - here’s a dollar!"  We played songs and commercials for an hour cutting frequently to Jerry on the street outside.  Eventually people walked that way because they’d heard what we were doing.  It wasn’t alot of people - just enough to make it fun.  The comedy that day was people not wanting to talk to a stranger - let alone take a dollar from one.  Can you imagine how many people today would show up if I repeated this bit?