The Satirist: Fred Allen on Radio

by dr george pollard

Satirists poke us with ideas. “Wealth is cheese in the rat race of life,” said Fred Allen. He also said a nymph is a wet pixie and no one fails, only gives up trying.

Satirists are curious. They want to know if we find the truth, hidden in their comments, on our own. I drink, said Groucho, to make other people interesting. Do our eyes go blank, ever so briefly, before a knowing flash appears? She who hesitates is a fool, said Mae West.

Satirists mostly find their curiosity dashed. Empty eyes in blank faces gawk, hopelessly. We laugh, instinctively, though the point is missed. This annoyed Bill Hicks to no end. Emotions are more easily stirred than is the mind. A guffaw evokes more quickly than does a thought. Satirists continue to poke, ever hopeful.

Satire works best when written. It endures when written, as in stone. You can carry an item of written satire wherever you go, if not written on too large a stone. “Better,” G. Bernard Shaw said, “is never late.” “A tavern,” Jonathan Swift said, “is a place where madness is sold by the bottle.” Durable and handy, the written form offers more chances to learn from satire, over time.

Verbal satire has a limited range: as far as you can yell. Radio lets us yell louder and farther. A few verbal satirists, such as Henry Morgan, snuck on to radio, as sponsors, their agencies and networks, were distracted as they tallied the profits.

Fred Allen is the most notable radio satirist. His pinched nasal voice carried far, with much effect. Edgar Bergen, a top radio star, said Allen “exposes and ridicules the pretensions of his times.” John Steinbeck, the author, said Allen was “a brilliant critic of manners and morals.” Jack Benny, a private friend and public foe, said Allen ad libbed, satirically, better than did anyone, on or off radio.

Allen was a listener favourite, too. Each week, for 17 years, he poked 30 million adults with ideas. Mostly in the top ten, “The Fred Allen Show” was number-one for the 1947 season.

The week of 7 April 1947, the cover of “Time” featured Fred Allen. “Time” was the leading news magazine. The cover picture was a coup. One hundred million adult Americans saw his face, each day, looking up and out from the newsstand stacks, as they passed.

His satire comes in “an angry, big-city clank, a splashy neon idiom,” claimed an unnamed writer for “Time.” Allen shares his wit and style with other Irish satirists, such as G. Bernard Shaw and Jonathan Swift. He, as did they, deals in “fiercely topical satire.”

Allen fell to the bottom of the ratings, in 1948. Radio was fast losing its audience to television. His shtick wore thin. ABC Radio aired a big-money give-away show against him. Times were changing.

NBC offered to air the Allen show at a worthy time. Allen declined. His blood pressure was higher than his ratings, he said; the question was, which would survive, the show or him. Combined affects ended his radio career on 26 June 1949, but he survived, as his undertaker confirmed.

Radio satirists fade, quickly. Allen yearned for success as a writer of satire for the eye, not the ear. After radio, he wrote two books: both were best sellers.

Satire draws attention to lessons hidden in current events. “The recent financial crisis,” says Leroy Jones, a retired literary agent, “helped me get back on my feet. The car was repossessed.” The example offers simple lessons. Don’t take on too much debt. Don’t trust big companies. Don’t trust government. Don’t believe the media. Be ever wary. Corny, yes, but laughter and lessons, fortunately, ride on the back of a disaster.

Satire, to rephrase Allen, has the life span of a short-lived butterfly. The enemy is detail. “It’s so hot in southern California,” says David Letterman, “Sarah Palin was happy to get a chilly welcome on ‘Dancing with the Stars.’” A few years from now, any mention of Palin may lead to a yawn and few will recall the television show.

Details change, but core ideas stay the same, such as the heat in southern California or financial crises. What we need to know or be reminded about are the outcomes of core ideas. Voters, said many a wit, get the elected officials they deserve.

Few know of Fred Allen, today: time changed the details, but not his core idea. His core idea, that big business erases freedom, prevails. Workers understand this idea, well, and will in 100 years.

In the 1930s and 1940s, sponsors, their agencies and radio networks censored the satire of Fred Allen. Box stores, today, censor a community. Such stores ruin small, local businesses; exist as a monopoly, pay only the barest wage and not much tax on their huge profits.

Allen as, say, Bill Hicks, would understand the box-store plague: it urges complacency. They’d know how to respond. Allen and all satirists speak out about such plagues, often and loud.

Fred Allen made Stuart Hample, a comedy writer, laugh. That was enough reason for Hample to write a book about him. Allen made millions of women and men think; this is more than enough reason to make sure he doesn’t fade away.

Click here to read the full story on Grub Street.

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Jerry Del Collianio — the end of radio

by Howard Lapides

“Hello Honey, it’s me. What did you think when you heard me back on the radio? I am the morning DJ, on W*O*L*D, playing all the hits for you, wherever you may be.” (Words and music by Harry Chapin, “W*O*L*D”.)

Once, not long ago, radio, AM stations and FM, was special. Always entertaining, radio found new music and DJs told us about what the new. Always, radio made listeners wonder and it’s hard to accept how far radio has fallen.

Jerry Del Colliano knows the acme and the nadir of radio. He lived the height of radio success and watched its horrific descent into nothingness. When he says the end of radio is now, not tomorrow, you must believe him.

Knowing Jerry Del Colliano, as I do. Reading his blog, “Inside Music Media” and speaking, with him, I sense I’m sitting Shiva for an old, trusted and loyal friend – radio. Radio is not yet dead. Still, we’d be foolish to believe radio wasn’t near the end.

I talk to men and women who love radio, but want to murder the messenger. They say Del Colliano sells doom. “Why doesn’t he focus on the answer to save radio,” they ask, “rather than focusing on failures?”

Del Colliano has answers. His answers speak to the future of radio, not its past. As any unknown or uncertain terrain, the future is sketchy and scary for most of us. Many try to stop his message.

Most important, Del Colliano inspires thought. Inspiring thought is his greatest gift. Converting thought into action is our job, not his.

Del Colliano is a polarizing figure. Many years ago, I learned not to pick a fight, with someone who buys ink by the barrel; that is, the media. By exposing the sins of media consolidators, Del Colliano takes aim at those who buy ink, figuratively, by the barrel.

“You haven’t made it, in Hollywood, until somebody wants you dead,” is an old saying. Radio consolidators and corporate owners want Del Colliano silenced. He must be right.

I spoke with some of his harshest critics, recently. The irony is rich. Off the record, they speak with great respect, even admiration. For the record, they defile him.

Radio is on life-support, slipping into and out of a coma, unlikely to see the light again. Del Colliano beats this drum loudest, but he’s first to beat the drum, most loudly, for a new radio day. Radio, he says, is in the delivery business, using Model-Ts in an age of spaceships.

The big record labels, such as Warner Music Group or EMI, are along for the ride into a void. The labels cling to ways that didn’t work yesterday and won’t tomorrow. Is it a fluke, how radio and labels are crumbling together?

Del Colliano urges we look to the future, not to the past. Listen to the young, mimic what they do. Get a grip, he says, it’s not back to the future, but into the future. Click here to radio the complete Grub Street Interview, with Jerry Del Colliano.

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Tim Byrd, the Byrdman, feature interview

“Byrd is the unknown A-list DJ,” says New York media maven, Leroy Jones. “No, he doesn’t work with a bag on his head, but he’s among the best DJs. He’s missing from top ten lists, too often.”

“Tim Byrd went one-for-one with ‘Cousin Brucie,’ for years,” says Jones, “but when someone thinks of New York City radio, she or he overlooks Byrd. The only radio sin Byrd committed is not working Los Angeles.

“Working LA, with freedom, he’d give The Real Don Steele a run. I know it’s a sacrilege to say any DJ is as good as was Steele,” says Jones. “Yet, Byrd is in that league, with Rich ‘Brother” Robin, Ken ‘Beaver Cleaver’ Levine” and maybe one or two other LARPs.

Comments about the radio work of Tim “Byrdman” Byrd seem deep in hyperbole. As Stan Klees, co-founder of the Juno Awards says, “If you did it and you tell, it isn’t bragging.” Tim Byrd did it and does it.

Early in his career, Byrd had an unheard-of 42 share, for his evening shift, on the renowned WAPE-AM, in Jacksonville. More recently, he took his evening show, on WRMF-FM, in West Palm Beach, from last to second place, in one rating period. The “it,” Tim Byrd does, is the best music radio in America and listeners respond.

Dick Summer worked with Byrd at WPIX-AM, in New York City. He says, “Tim is the complete radio personality.” Batt Johnson worked, with Byrd, at WKHK-FM, also in New York. He says, “Tim became my brother almost the day I met him.

“Byrd is fiercely fun-loving, hard-working and dedicated,” says Johnson. “He’s not afraid of his feelings. He’s not afraid to be kind. He’s not afraid to do right, on or off the air.

“There was an older African-American woman living in his building,” says Johnson. “She became ill and couldn’t work. Tim took it upon himself to pay her rent and give her money for food.”

Matt Seinberg, of Big Apple Air Checks, tells a similar story. “My family and I were stranded, in Florida, near West Palm Beach. All the hotels and motels were full. Yeah, I know, but it was June.

“We had nowhere to go and knew no one, except Tim,” says Seinberg. “I phoned him. In no time, Tim got us into a top hotel. We got much needed rest before the flight back to New York.”

“Such acts define the person,” says Batt Johnson.

Byrd made a career of hard choices. When others opted to take much abuse, to keep a job, Byrd quit. His career mixed small and large radio markets, without pattern.

For twenty years, Byrd worked New York City, the top radio market, in the USA. He also worked VH-1 for four and one-half years; he was the favourite VJ of Phil Collins and Carly Simon. The story of Tim “Byrdman” Byrd confirms talent and principle breed success.

In this exclusive, in-depth interview, Tim Byrd talks about how the only boy, of a preacher man, found success. Click here to read the full interview.

Streeter Click

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Howard Lapides: media maven

Streeter Click

Howard Lapides is a storyteller. “I helped him discover his missed calling,” says business partner, Bill Siddons. “He should have been a raconteur.”

“I used to think he only talked,” e-mails Leroy Jones about Lapides. “Now, I see that he tells stories. His stories are lessons, with morals. He dispenses 21st century lore, sometimes cynical, always honest, never off mark. To restate Beat poet, Jack Kerouac, ‘Go read, of Howard, now and learn.’”

Lapides is about media. His favourite adage is the media are 99% business and 1% show. That folksy wisdom is his recipe, his talk and walk, for success.

“If you don’t exist to the middle world,” he told Dr Drew Pinsky, “among managers, agents and publicists, you won’t succeed.” Producers, atop the media food chain, rely on middle world farmers. Talent creates, best, when free ranging.

“Creative fulfilment takes many forms,” says Lapides. “Radio is one. Promoting rock and pop concerts is another. Helping talented women and men build careers is a third.” He knows, having done all three, with élan and much success.

Centuries ago, Lao-tzu said, “Those who justify themselves do not convince.” Shakespeare thought she “Doth protest too much.” Baseball great, Yogi Berra claimed, “If you done it, it ain’t bragging.” Lapides does it, won’t talk past the sale or justify.

This is rare. “Lapides works a phony town and industry,” says David D’Arcangelo. “Yet, he remains genuine, with bona fides; dignity and integrity intact.”

Lapides sees himself as “a disc jockey from Buffalo, New York.” It’s true, of course. Still, this self-image grossly downplays his protean ability.

“Howard knows radio,” says Bob Wood. Wood hired Lapides to host the Buffalo “Bills” post-game show. You’re unlikely to find anyone who knows radio as well as him.

“To this day,” says concert promoter, Harold Levin, of Bass Clef, “Howard is the brightest person in show business. He’s imaginative and successful. Howard is among the best managers and promoters, of all time.”

“If there was no Howard Lapides,” says Pinsky, “there’d be no Dr Drew, period; end of story. He told me what to do. Often, he told me how to do it. I listened, learned and benefited.”

Most telling is the opinion of rivals. A top agent, who negotiated anonymity for his comments, knows Lapides, well, often working with him. Though his words abused, his style praised. The agent always referred to “Howard,” never that so-and-so. When he spoke the word, “Howard,” his tone softened, his volume dropped, if so slightly. In midsentence, he clearly paused before saying the name. What’s unsaid is most revealing. The agent can’t help respect and admire Lapides.

Lapides likes to work live, over lunch, at The Palm. Supposedly, the art of conversation is dead. Monday to Friday, at The Palm, over lunch, Lapides confirms the art of conversation is alive and thriving, in Los Angeles.

In this rare interview, Howard Lapides is at the top of his game. He tells stories, offers insights and gives advice. Most of all, he entertains.

Click here to read the complete interview, with talent manager, Howard Lapides, of Lapides/Lear, Lost Angeles.

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