When people ask me what I do in my free time, I tell them I’m a radio jockey.
This might be stretching the truth a little bit, but you can hear me on the radio every Saturday morning. While calling myself a radio jockey implies I’m a smooth-talking, sunglasses-wearing music aficionado who gets to use the microphone as his pulpit, in reality, I talk about hip-hop fun facts and “strange but true” news stories for a couple of minutes each hour.
My official title is “on-air talent, personality and news broadcaster,” but that’s a mouthful and “radio jockey” sounds more impressive. I imagine real radio jockeys show up to the station whenever they want, bump fists with legends in the music industry and go home to bathtubs full of cash.
My lifestyle has been slightly different. Last semester, my radio career began with a primetime timeslot of Thursday mornings at 1 a.m. During a normal shift, I arrive at the station and spend 20 minutes trying to remember how to operate the soundboard. Once I’ve figured out the microphones, I start recording, but I stop quickly when my boss starts laughing from her office next door. Presumably she’s in stitches over a joke she just heard on the phone, but my impressionable mind is convinced she’s laughing at my squeaky voice.
Several failed recordings later, I get a voice track I deem worthy of sending out to my tens, nay, dozens of listeners, but I accidentally delete it when I bump my elbow against the computer. With mounting frustration, I put my mouth to the microphone and speak from the heart, talking clearly and passionately about an upcoming Beyonce song. I sit back, smug and satisfied with the five-star voice track, but then I realize the microphone wasn’t on.
Recording for the radio can be confusing, frustrating and intimidating, but it can also be goofy and rewarding. Last semester’s 1 a.m. timeslot meant I could talk about whatever I wanted, and I appreciate this kind of freedom. Furthermore, I enjoy the unique ways broadcasting lets me connect to my listeners.
Maybe I’ll never achieve the fame and fortune of someone like Howard Stern, but my broadcasting exploits are increasing in legitimacy. I’ve partnered with a friend to produce a Saturday morning show, which we call “The Breakfast Boys,” and our boss is teaching us how to choose songs to air. This new timeslot comes with a few limits on my freedom of speech, but on the upside, conversing with a buddy is more interesting than monologuing into the microphone.
It’s strange and thrilling to hear your voice crackling over the radio, to know some random stranger might be tuning their dials and listening to you talk about DMX’s hobbies. That feeling will stay with me for the rest of my life. This explanation is a lot to dump on someone who just asked me what I do in my free time, so for now I’ll continue saying I’m a radio jockey.
John’s column runs biweekly Fridays. He can be reached at j.benenati@cavalierdaily.com.
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