Happy . . . Thanks . . . giving . . . from . . . W . . . K . . . R . . . P!
Or 3 Chords & the Truth. Whatever. And as God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly. And as God is my witness, when the fambly starts to bug the crud out of you this long weekend, you will have a place to escape and chill with some fine music. That place would be the Big Show. Naturally. Just stay the hell out of the parking lot when you make your musical escape. The gobblers are hitting the pavement like sacks of wet cement. Oh, the humanity! It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there.Aloha.
I was going to post this earlier today, but some crazy SOB was throwing live turkeys out of a helicopter while I was in line for Black Friday at Target.
So, accept my apologies, excuse my concussion -- one of the things hit me -- and . . . "Happy . . . Thanks . . . giving . . . from . . . W . . . K . . . R . . . P!"
Some radio stations play "Alice's Restaurant" every Thanksgiving. Revolution 21's Blog for the People screens the "Turkeys Away" episode of WKRP in Cincinnati.
As God is our witness, we thought turkeys could fly.
Rod Dreher wonders sarcastically how the Soviet Union collapsed with cultural ammunition such as this.
I wonder seriously how, with cultural ammunition such as 50-Cent, we cannot.
Then there's this cultural linchpin of American greatness:
ALL THINGS being equal, I've developed a soft spot in my cultural heart for Soviets with bad suits and worse haircuts singing songs that, for sure, won't land you in a Siberian labor camp. And after this long, long winter on the snowy, frozen Plains, all I have to say is "YOOOOOOOOI, YOOOI YO-YOOOOOI! YOI YOI YOIIII, YOIIII YOI YOI!"
Something tells me this has become a Revolution 21 Thanksgiving tradition -- reveling once more in the sublimity that is the "Turkeys Away" episode of "WKRP in Cincinnati."
The show -- about the wacky characters and zany antics at a dysfunctional Top-40 station -- was a wonderful comedy that was wonderful because it was rooted just enough in reality. Back in the '70s and early '80s, we loved 'KRP because it was the Island of Misfit Toys with a microphone and transmitter.
I THINK it useful to reflect on "WKRP in Cincinnati" in light of where radio finds itself 30 years on. Let's ask just one question -- if there were a WKRP and it still was around for Thanksgiving 2009, what would we say about it?
Well, I think in most markets, we'd say it was the best station in town. We give thanks for many things this day, but that's not one of them.
Here's hoping your turkey wasn't one that hit the pavement like a bag of wet cement. Happy Thanksgiving.
In the Online Journalism Review, a former J-school professor outlines eight things journalism students should demand of their professional education these days.
AND, OF COURSE, a journalism student has something to say in the comments:
While I agree with all of these, the last one really resonates with me, as I am a current journalism student. When we have guest speakers come in and say things like "run while you can,"and "you're crazy to get a j-degree," I get incredibly frustrated. Aren't these professionals supposed to believe in journalism as a pillar of democracy and a way for people to make informed decisions? Maybe they should go back to school and try to remember why they got into the field in the first place, because I'm pretty confident it wasn't for the money then, and it's not about the money now. Yes citizen journalism is becoming more prevalent, but that should give us a reason to step our reporting up a notch instead of laying down in defeat and whining about it.
AH, YOUTH. God bless, 'em, the voices of people not yet beaten down by life. Or journalism.
That said, the kid's right. And the great professional struggle in this young student's life will be to retain the ability, in 20 years, to write something like this with a straight face.
His (or her) professional life will be spent getting up every morning looking for yet another reason to give a damn. Trudging into the office every damn day and trying to remember "why they got into the field in the first place," because -- Lord knows -- it wasn't for the money, which doesn't quite stretch far enough to cover pressing expenditures.
AND THIS formerly young journalist will sit in a cubicle some future day, ruminating about the office collection of smart-asses, dolts, ass-kissers, rank incompetents and the really good Joe here and there. Then this middle aged sentinel of democracy will wonder just why the hell he ever thought people were "supposed to believe in journalism as a pillar of democracy and a way for people to make informed decisions."
Then our intrepid -- or, perhaps, formerly intrepid -- journalist will turn to the multimedia setup and make a crucial decision anew. One he's had to make every day since graduation in 2010.
"Do I gut it out another day in this God-forsaken place, or do I run while I still can?"
WATCH the above episode of WKRP in Cincinnati. I know it's from the olden days of media, back when there was still this thing called "radio" people listened to, but I think the dilemma -- and the choices made -- are universal.
And likewise will be in 2030, should we all be so lucky to still be here then.
