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It's been a year.

It's been a year and I still remind myself to call him at 5 pm every day. It's been a year and I still want to know if he saw the game last night, and I still think I should call him from the press box at the stadium or when I find a good burger place so I can tell him he'll have to try it next time he's out here.

But there won't be a next time. And I won't hear his voice bark "PERRY MICHAEL!" on the phone with joy every time he'd beat me to the punch and call me first. And I won't hear him dissect the Heat's offense, how he was one of the first to peg Dwyane Wade as a superstar, how Phoenix was gonna end up like the Mavericks did with Nash, running out of gas before the finish line. No more updates about his latest victory on the tennis court. No more quick meals with him at the Boca Raton Town Center food court or sandwiches at Too Jay's deli. No more "war" stories about his playing baseball in an Army league throughout Europe during the Korean War, no more reminisces about youth league basketball coaching, no more thoughtful analyses of the problems of public education. No more unconditional, overwhelming love from the guy who knew me before anyone else.

It's been a year.

Today, we'll go out and do stuff with him in mind, tennis or a book store or something, maybe get the kind of steak or burger he always loved, a piece of See's candy- dark chocolate with nuts, just as he always preferred. And I'll look around at the life I have, a privileged, good life, and I'll remember the guy to which I owe it all.

It's been a year. So much has happened since then- a blur of lawyers and accountants and bankers, sadness and joy, illness and health. Life went on. He always said it would- he assumed that you die and it's all over, no afterlife, no next thing, no nothing. I hope he's wrong and he's in that proverbial "better place." I hope he hasn't really missed a thing.

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Me?

I worked all freakin' day. The only day of this alleged "long weekend" with any sun.

And you?

(grr)

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Got back late from the ballpark- the game's still on, extra innings, bottom of the 10th. I left in the 8th, pulled into the driveway just as the Cubs scored in the top of the 10th. Because I'm running late/behind, here's today's edition of "The Letter from All Access News-Talk-Sports," in case you didn't get it (for the uninitiated, it's the weekly newsletter/plugfest that promotes my other columns while serving as a sort of radio consultant's notes/humor column):

Hey, You!:

Stop hyperventilating. The apocalypse is not upon us, no matter HOW it seems.

Let's take the signs of doom one at a time, shall we?:

1. Yes, a ringtone is the number one chart-topping song in the UK. Yes, it's a lame ringtone, too, the "Axel F Theme" from "Beverly Hills Cop" set to a disco thump and topped with a chipmunk-like "crazy frog" voice. It's a novelty. It'll go away. Remember a few years ago when they went wild for the "Ham(p)ster Dance"? You don't hear that much anymore, do you? (Another way to look at it is this: music isn't the same dominant entertainment medium in a young person's life as it was when we were kids. Nowadays, video games and text messaging and cell phones are the biggest things, so why not a ringtone? If only it was a better ringtone....)

2. It is true that at a showing of "The Longest Yard" at the Regal Stadium 13 theater complex in my area, the audience reserved its most rousing ovation for the brief screen appearances of Rob Schneider, both in a trailer for "Deuce Bigalow, Eurpoean Gigolo" (which, by the way, appears to be exactly the same movie as the original- nice to see Hollywood in environmentally-conscious recycling mode) and in his extremely brief cameos near the end of the movie. However, it should be pointed out that... er... okay, there's NO excuse for that, but consider for a moment what kind of person would willingly pay to see an Adam Sandler remake of "The Longest Yard." (We were there, of course, for purely observational purposes, an anthropological field trip, y'see, and... fine, it was overcast and we were bored. Happy now?) Granted, that's a lot of people, but I prefer to look at the bright side- more people saw "Revenge of the Sith" and "Madagascar" this weekend. Is that a bright side?

3. Indeed, Paris Hilton has reportedly gotten engaged to a guy also named Paris. This actually has several positive aspects to it: it at least temporarily prevents anyone else from accidentally entering into a relationship with her (think of it as "containing the fire"), it provides her with a spouse whose name she can't possibly forget (can she?), and, er, I dunno. I'm aware of the downside: saturation media coverage of the wedding, a likely "Mrs. Paris" reality series, more Carl's Jr. commercials. I prefer to remain positive.

4. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are... ah, forget it.

So there's nothing to fear, not until maybe Ben Affleck makes another movie. And that's a clear and present danger, but it also shows you the necessity of keeping up on pop culture- it's changing so rapidly that determining what's in, what's out, and what's relevant is a full-time job. But it's worth it for a talk radio host, because it's such a fertile field for discussion. A ringtone- a bad ringtone- as a pop phenomenon? Bad remakes? The baffling popularity of Rob Schneider? Paris Hilton's marriage, burgers, and general celebrity? Not the end of the world, but when you've run out of things to say about the big news stories- or, like in this week, when the big news stories aren't really setting the phones on fire- it's nice to have that stuff available, and it's always good to sound like you know what you're talking about. If you want to attract younger listeners, you can't be talking about texting and PSPs and the new XBox and PS3 consoles as if you're someone's grandpa without a clue about these here newfangled gizmos.

(Long plug for All Access News-Talk-Sports/Talk Topics/AllAccess.com redacted)

I'll leave you now with important words from one of today's great philosophers on the topic of talking about pop culture on the radio, about which she imparts this critical advice:

"That's hot."

Words to live by. Works for her.

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If you read the papers today, or especially if you peruse the newspaper trade web sites like Romanesko or E&P, the only story that matters today is Deep Throat. Deep throat's identity, his heroism, who knew what... it's as if nothing else, not the landslides in Laguna or Saddam's lawyer's entreaties to get the charges over with or the Dutch rejecting the EU constitution, nothing else matters.

This, of course, is true only if your life revolves around journalism, especially past journalism. The rest of us don't care.

Mark Felt is, of course, not a hero, nor is he a villian. He's exactly the kind of guy on which countless reporters in countless cases have relied- the backgrounder, the guy you go to not for an on-the-record quote or direct information but rather for confirmation that you're on the right track or off on a wild goose chase. You call your guy and you say "I have this and I have that- I know you can't confirm but am I in the right ballpark?" And he says yes or no or you're warm or cold, or sometimes he tells you who to ask or where to look. That's valuable, and it can be critical, but the difference between the run-of-the-mill anonymous background advisor and Mark Felt is that he got a snappy, risque name and was involved in one of the age's biggest stories. If Woodward and Bernstein hadn't called him "Deep Throat," if they hadn't chosen to write the story as if it was a Tom Clancy potboiler instead of a political investigation, nobody would care much about Mark Felt now. But he was "Deep Throat," hiding in shadows in parking garages, mumbling tips to Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford- and it's a huge story.

But it's a huge story only to the media itself. (In fact, it's not even the most important media story, in the long run, that broke today; the ad spending figures showing newspapers struggling and the fact that the allegedly impartial Columbia Journalism Review is being "advised" by Victor Navasky are more relevant today) It's an amusing, mildly interesting story among many others to the general public. It ain't earthshaking. Knowing who Deep Throat was isn't essential to most people's lives.

And the 49ers tape is far more entertaining.

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Oh, it just doesn't get any better than this. One radio host blasting another on the same station, open warfare. And, even better, it's Angelo Cataldi vs. Howard Eskin, which is self-explanatory to anyone in Philadelphia.

I learned long ago not to burn bridges, not to take disputes that should remain private to the public level, to let slights and insults go because they're not worth the battle. But this is SO entertaining.

I wish I could hear what they're doing on the air- convenient, isn't it, that this is happening in the Spring ratings book?- but WIP won't be streaming for a few more weeks. Hope they're still ripping each other by then.

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I am not trendy. I am resolutely boring- I've worn the same style and brand of jeans for 30 years, the same kind of sneakers for almost 40 years. I never caught the reality TV wave, I'm not much for hip-hop, I drive a freakin' Volvo.

I ordered an iPod.

I kinda had to. My entire industry, radio, is rushing headlong into podcasting. Besides, I listen to a lot of shows on the computer- with podcasts, downloads, and Replay Radio recording, I'll be able to take the shows with me. It was time, and if that means I've joined the sheep, well, baaaaa.

It should show up next week, although probably not before I head to New York. Review then.

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WCBS-FM in New York and WJMK in Chicago have dumped Oldies, and I don't think I have to tell you what the new format is in both cases.

Hello, Jack. 80s pop and Phil Collins records, because "we play what we want."

Look, for all I know, this could work. But the way this is spreading is striking me as Jammin' Oldies all over again. Remember that? If not, here's a history lesson: a few years ago, a station in L.A. decided to try a brand of oldies that was flavored with old soul and R&B hits, aimed at the Latino listeners who grew up with a similar mix of music on the old KRLA. There was talk that it would be called "Lowrider Oldies," but they ended up calling it "Mega 100.3, Jammin' Oldies." And it was initially a hit.

So far, so good, except that the radio industry tends not to think before wanting to jump on what it senses might be a trend. And, lo and behold, within a short time, "Jammin' Oldies" was everywhere. It popped up in virtually every market, many with the same logo style as the L.A. version, with the same imaging and sweepers and promotions. And... it tanked. And the L.A. station eventually went away, too.

The reason it didn't work everywhere should have been obvious- the music mix was a specific type for a specific audience. If you grew up listening to KRLA in El Monte or East L.A., you heard "Gimme Little Sign" and "I'm Your Puppet" all the freakin' time. If you didn't grow up at that time and place, you didn't. So if you were a listener in, say, Tampa, you heard the less familiar songs and thought "I don't remember this one" and hit the button to see what the "regular" Oldies station was playing. This should have been obvious to anyone, but radio programmers plunged headlong into the format without regard to its appropriateness for the market. It was more important to them to grab the format before someone else in the market took it than to consider whether it made sense at all.

Lesson learned? Ah, no. Jack-FM hasn't yet proven a long-term consistent hit. It's done well in Vancouver, had some nice gains in Dallas (although it's leveled off), but it's way too early to gauge whether the initial gains will be long-lasting, and you can see some declines after initial pops in some other markets. Doesn't mean it'll fail, doesn't mean it'll work. It means it's too early to tell. But Infinity's blowing up two of its long-running Oldies stations to throw it on, partly because it's perceived that Oldies is about to buy the farm- the audience is aging, the revenues are projected to decline- and a lot because if they didn't do it, they feared, someone else would, and if it's a real hit, that would be like taking LaRue Martin with the first pick of the NBA draft (look it up).

From the press release:

"New York deserves a radio station that is equally as eclectic as its listener's personalities and attitudes," said Chad Brown, Vice President and General Manager, WCBS-FM. "JACK FM promises to be unlike anything currently heard in the market. Others have tried to imitate the JACK format, but time and again it has been proven that the success of the format is achieved by fully committing to its objectives and delivering a completely new and unique product. We look forward to changing the landscape of the New York radio market."

Focus on this:

"time and again it has been proven that the success of the format is achieved by fully committing to its objectives and delivering a completely new and unique product."

And then this:

Among the many different artists that will be heard on the station, include Aerosmith, Duran Duran, No Doubt, Lenny Kravitz, the Eagles, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen and REM.

Completely new and unique?

Yeah, real adventurous. I'm glad I got an iPod.

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Ladies and gentlemen, live from today's Palos Verdes Peninsula Street Fair, it's the Palos Verdes Fun Club!

Let's get a little closer and feel the mirth...

(I couldn't get closer, because when the two sad-looking people at the booth saw me taking pictures with my camera, they started to mug for the shot. You don't need to see that.)

Ah, yes, two glum mopes sulking in a booth on an overcast afternoon, with plain signs advertising dance events tacked around them. Just the kind of "fun" everyone needs. But if it gets to be too much, around the corner, this booth had the answer:

This guy was hawking rubberband guns. When just shooting 'em with your fingers isn't painful enough, just load some Staples specials onto one of these babies and watch the fun spread! Also the welts.

For the fainter of heart:

I didn't hang around to see exactly how these things shoot marshmallows, but it's safe to say they don't do much damage. Maybe some powdered sugar burns.

This year's street fair was busy but even less eventful or worthwhile than last year's- it seemed like a lot fewer booths spread out over an even larger area, and the booths had absolutaly nothing worth buying. There were several chiropractor booths, although none were handing out those crooked pens, and more than the usual number of homemade soap vendors. That was about it. There was entertainment of the expected sort- a jazz band, an old-folks' band, a clown on stilts- but it was all dispirited and oddly unpleasant and very much out of place. This isn't a down-home, friendly area. It's rich, cold, distant, inhibited. Kinda like the Fun Club. Maybe I should join them after all.

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