Tuesday, February 22, 2000

Last week I played Bobby Gaylor's single, "Suicide" (SEE: Monday, January 31, 2000) on my radio show on WAIH. When I played the song, I was a bit nervous that I would get a rash of hate calls, due to the touchy subject matter. Instead, I got one call, telling me that the song was awesome.

I played the song again this morning. I actually played it, because I got a request for it. That was my first call about it today. My second call came about halfway through the song from a person not so enthused about what was being played on WAIH's airwaves under my direction.

The air studio phone rang. I picked up the receiver and was confronted by a brusque voice telling me that what I was playing was inappropriate. The person said that he was trying to eat breakfast in the dinning hall with his son when the song came on. He didn't appreciate it being played at that time in the morning. I replied that it had been a request, and was rebutted by the click of a heavy hanging-up before I could continue on.

I'm really not upset that I offended somebody. There is always one person who will not approve of what you play on the radio, and I refuse to dilute my show to the point where all I can play is one step above children's songs. My motto is "a morning show you don't have to disengage your brain to listen to." What bothers me is that the person on the other end of the line didn't want to hear any explanation of why I was playing the song. They only wanted it to "go away." They refused to face it.

This is understandable. Perhaps this person has had a friend commit - or try to commit - suicide. In this case, I would completely see why some raw nerves would have been touched. Is that any excuse for slamming the phone down on me?

Another thought that crossed my mind is that this person didn't want their son hearing this song. Based just on that alone, I could assume that we're dealing with a fairly young child. While it is natural for a parent to want to protect their child from reality for as long as possible, this is an unrealistic goal - especially on a college campus. Besides, the kid didn't even have to be on campus to hear the song, or listening to a college radio station - it's gotten airplay on other radio stations.

I see the situation as an opportunity to talk to your child about the subject. If the child heard the song, asked a question and had his parent brush off the subject, what kind of message does that send? If anything, it reinforces a taboo, but it certainly does not do anything to help in understanding the subject. Who am I to talk though? I'm not a parent, nor do I ever really plan on being one.

The main reason I played the song was that I thought people should hear it. Ultimately, it is not a song about killing oneself as much as it is a song about the consequences of that action. It is a very pro-life song, if anything. Bobby Gaylor wrote it because he was pissed off that a friend of his tried to commit suicide - I seriously doubt he'd be trying to encourage others to end their mortal existence. Contrary to (un)popular belief, I don't go out of my way to offend my listeners. I'll reiterate - I played the song because I felt that people should hear it. I wanted people to understand the message that suicide is not the best option.

I think that is the root of why I was upset over the second caller's reaction. He didn't listen to the message. Instead he called up and, in not so many words, told me to make it go away.

I can't make it go away. Even by pressing "stop" on the CD player, I can't make it go away. Reality is a very pernicious intangibility.

If you have heard "Suicide" by Bobby Gaylor in it's entirety, please send me your comments on the song. Be aware that I reserve the right to post your comments, but won't if you ask me not to.

In yet another venture in the land of possible offended repercussions, I did a speech in my first class Monday. The assignment had been to prepare a speech of definition, that is, define the meaning of a word within the context it would be used in for subsequent speeches on the subject. I chose to define "bias."

To start of my speech, I told the class about how the "sword-boy" caller had accosted The Tall Guy and me (SEE: Sunday, November 14, 1999). To drive my point home as I eased into my speech of definition, I used a direct quote: "You fucking freaks."

To my surprise, the class responded positively to my use of the word "fuck." Not one of them flinched. Not one of them told me to "have a little class." I had used the word perfectly in context, and sparingly (meaning, only within the quote) and had not been crucified for it.

This is what a speech class should be - a place where one is free to speak. I was feeling pretty good after the class, despite being nervous during the speech. I'm getting to like this class much better than a certain class I had last semester (SEE: Monday, November 1, 1999).

I've been exceedingly tired lately. I don't know why, but I get back from classes or work only to lie down on my bed and pass out for an hour or two (sometimes more). This is totally fucking with my internal clock. Also, I hate sleeping in my clothes. At least my dreams have subsided for the time being.