Evidenced by the fact, for example, that one of the most popular features on any DVD of a movie or TV show is the "added features" which, almost always, includes some form of peek at how that particular movie or TV show was/is made.
In that spirit, here's a little "behind the scenes" thing for those of you who enjoy terrestrial radio.
The conventional wisdom is that you're a moron.
And those who know me well assume, at this moment, that I'm about to begin/resume a tirade about the prevailing corporate radio attitude that you really do want to hear "Margaritaville" twelve times a week.
Wrongo, bongo.
This particular pick of nit has to do with monikers.
No, not those little round lenses you have to do a major face crunch to keep from falling out of your eye socket.
That's monocles.
I'm talking monikers, sobriquets, non de plumes, aliases, aka's.
A name by any other name.
Somewhere, back in the days of coils and tubes and brightly lit tuning windows with words like "Philco" and "Emerson" on them, someone, almost surely an ancestor of the modern day radio consultant, determined that, in order to be successful as a radio personality, one must create some sort of on air persona, apart from their plain old everyday persona and, accordingly, there must be some sort of snappy on air name to make the illusion complete.
By the time the 60's rolled around, the on air persona/name thing had evolved to a place that brought us the live and lively presentations of "Murray The K", "Cousin Brucie", "Wolfman Jack" et al.
Local radio, being ever so determined to keep its own hip status as activated as possible, held up its end of the ID dealio with, if not a complete re-do of a jock's real name, then, at least, some show biz worthy tiny tweak.
I grew up listening to Dan Diamond....and C.C. Courtney....and a host of other hosts whom I feel sure were not christened Dan Diamond and C.C. Courtney and a host of other hosts.
Sometimes, the "alter ego" names were fun, sometimes they were a little silly...
And sometimes, they were just stupid.
Blair Garner, an accomplished and award winning nationally syndicated radio host tells of a time, during the "Star Wars" craze days of the late 70's, that his particular program director at the time, believing it was critical to the station's success that all the on airs have timely and topical titles, informed Blair of his own new on air persona....
...and Garner, all these years later, shares, both humorously and not just a little embarrassingly, that for, at least, a couple of years, he was known to his radio audience as .....wait for it......
..."Sky Walker....!"
Okay, there was, admittedly, a certain logic, at the time, to having the on air's present themselves as "characters", if not caricatures, hosting their "hip, happenin' radio shows!".
Just as there was, at one time, a certain logic to requiring movie stars to give their public a little something in the way of persona in place of plain old.
To wit...
Born Lucille LeSeur, this Oscar winner became Joan Crawford.
Born Archie Leach, this iconic comedic actor became Cary Grant.
And almost everyone who has ever loved the movies knows by which name the young, former brunette turned blonde starlet Norma Jean Baker became legend.
With, or without, a little top forty help from Elton John.
Born Reginald Dwight, by the way.
Somewhere along the way, though, as evolution tends to evolve, the need for the assumption of fictional names became not only unnecessary in TV, film, music and/or broadcasting, but also began to seem not just a little lame, a little cliché, a little silly....
...and sometimes, just a little stupid.
And radio began to be perfectly comfortable making stars out of on air personalities who "stacked the wax for all those kats and kiddies".
Don Imus. Howard Stern. Casey Kasem. Whitney Allen.
And, more recently, Ryan Seacrest.
Good ol', if not boy or girl next door, names, then, at least, real names of real people.
Bringing fun, facts and music to other real people.
National broadcasting companies finally acquiring confidence that an on air's ability to inform and/or entertain you was about their ability to inform and/or entertain you and had nothing to do with what they called themselves.
Local radio, meanwhile, though, somehow fell behind the curve.
Whether it was because they didn't get the memo or, more likely, those who own and run local radio stations these days are veterans from a time and place that someone, almost surely a descendant of those long ago radio consultants, determined that, in order to be successful as a radio personality, one must create some sort of on air persona, apart from their plain old everyday persona and, accordingly, there must be some sort of snappy on air name to make the illusion complete.
And whose concept of what is necessary to make local radio successful is to employ each and every "by-law" of the "how to run a radio station" manual that was published in 1942.
And revised only once or twice since then, the last time somewhere around 1975.
Resulting in an adherence to an antiquated methodology that, in light of current sensibilities, comes off, at best, as a little silly.
Or even stupid.
Even now, as we speak (or write/read, as is the case here), peers and associates of mine perform, inform and/or entertain each day on local radio, identifying themselves by a name which neither the Bureau of Records nor their mommas have any inkling.
And, as a courtesy to them, I'm not using their names, real or revised, but, for purposes of point, here's some "close enough to illustrate" fictional examples:
Angela Causey is on the air.....as Bree Carson.
Kenny Langan is on the air...as Kenny Lang.
Sharon Overstreet is on the air...as Sher Street.
James Uberlashevsky is on the air...as Jimmy Lash.
Getting the picture?
And how's the sound coming in for you?
Even allowing for the fact that "Uberlashevsky" is more than a mouthful, I'm still trying to figure out why Bree Carson can't just be Angela Causey.
Cause she is, you know.
As for myself, I've had more than a few owners require me to play the name game in order to gain access to the mic.
Among others...
Scott Edwards.
Jack Edwards.
Eddie Scott.
In the recent past, one of my favorite examples of rectal reasoning:
"Digger Phelps".
One time I held my ground, by the way, and said no way, arguing the case that people were going to wonder why, and be confused by, a former Notre Dame basketball coach born in 1941 was hosting a local country music morning show in 2012.
The owner's rebuttal being that the name recognition itself was exactly the reason it would work so well.
Hmm.
And, in what I still think of as the ultimate argument against letting any owner ever have anything to say about what gets broadcast on their station, there was the insightful, keen eyed local radio impresario who informed me that the use of my complete, real name was unacceptable.
Despite the fact that I had been using that name in that market for over five years, had built a considerable following and was pretty successful in terms of the two things owner ostensibly want in an on air personality.
Getting people, in large numbers, to listen.
Getting advertisers to advertise because people, in large numbers, were listening.
In this case, though, it was the argument presented in support of my not using the known name that really took the call letter cake.
"Hrmph," the owner grunted, taking a shot at sounding wise beyond his synaptic capacity, "...three names.....you can't use three names.....all the serial killers and assassins have three names....".
"Hmm," I responded, taking a shot at sounding like I wasn't inferring this guy was a putz, "....you're right....three names....like John Wilkes Booth.......Lee Harvey Oswald....Sirhan Bishara Sirhan.....", and, then, never known for being one to leave well enough even close to alone, adding "....John Paul Jones...Martin Luther King....Mary Tyler Moore..."
As you might imagine, the gig didn't last long.
I think the line got crossed just about the time I invoked the girl who could turn the world on with her smile.
Radio station owners really do expect to have it both ways.
They seek out quick witted, straight shootin', attention gettin' wise asses for their station's listeners.
They just don't want to have to personally deal with quick witted, straight shootin', attention gettin' wise asses.
And they don't want jocks with three names.
Or "real" names, for that matter.
Because, as I shared with you earlier, from behind the scenes.
A lot of local radio management subscribes to conventional wisdom.
And that wisdom dictates that you're a moron.
And morons don't have the capacity to be informed and/or entertained by somebody named Angela Causey.
Or Kenny Langan.
Or Sharon Overstreet
Or even James Uberlashevsky.
Let alone a serial killer or assassin.
Morons require simple, catchy, easy to remember names in order to be informed and/or entertained.
Bree Carson.
Kenny Lang.
Sher Street.
Jimmy Lash.
Or...
Scott!
Yup.
For the twenty or so minutes I lasted with Mr. Three Name Guy, I was Scott!
Like Madonna!
Cher!
Gaga!
Simple, short, sweet, even silly....
...even stupid.
Because, and try to remember this time because it gets tiring having to keep reminding you, you're a moron.
And morons lack the capacity to be entertained by someone real with a real personality...
...and a real name.
As we've learned, the local radio conventional wisdom tells us that real names are a sure fire way to guarantee the entertainer will fail to attract, charm, capture and retain an audience, let alone a fan base.
Just ask Meryl Streep.
