THE
MUNDANE LITTLE THINGS YOU DO TODAY WHILE PREPARING FOR
TOMORROW'S SUCCESS MAY WELL BE THE THINGS THAT GUARANTEE
THAT SUCCESS. GIVE IT YOUR BEST — ALWAYS.
When I was
an announcer/writer at radio station KTAR in Phoenix,
Arizona, my goal was to become a network announcer in
Chicago or New York, the national headquarters of radio at
that time. I listened to the network announcers and
practiced reading commercials as they did so that the copy
sounded spontaneous and ad-libbed. I studied the delivery of
every first-class network announcer in the country, and soon
I could sound very much like them. Every commercial I read
on the air at KTAR, whether for the local mortuary or
sporting goods store, I read as though it were a national
commercial for the most world-renowned company.
I gave so
much pizzazz to the local commercials my announcer friends
soon dubbed me "network" and kidded me — found my efforts
ludicrous. They were helping me on my way. "Why do you knock
yourself out on those ridiculous commercials?" they'd ask.
And I would smile and go about my business.
I would
listen every day to those men and women who were at the very
top of my field, and no matter how mundane the copy or
humble a place of business, when I stepped up to the
microphone, I had a picture of the entire country listening
to every word I spoke. I gave it my very best — always.
And after
2 1/2 years of KTAR in Phoenix, I felt I was ready for the
big time. I told my friends I'd soon quit and head for
Chicago. My announcement was met with unbelieving stares and
the most vociferous arguments.
"There
are 450 union card–carrying announcers walking the streets
of Chicago trying to get work in the big stations there,"
I was told. But my mind was made up, and I bought a one-way
ticket to Chicago.
In Chicago
I took a room at the old Chicagoan Hotel in the Loop, bought
a copy of the Chicago
Tribune, and turned on my portable radio. There
were two target radio stations. They were the two biggest
and the best at the time, WBBM CBS in the Wrigley Building
on Michigan Avenue, and WMAQ NBC in the Merchandise Mart. I
tackled WBBM first. I'll never forget that first day in
those beautiful, posh surroundings. The marble floors, the
uniformed elevator starters, those fabulous brass and
glistening hardwood elevators.
Al Morey
was program director at the time. He was most cordial and
immediately led me to a large nearby studio for an audition.
He gave me a fist full of copy that included some tricky
commercials and part of a newscast.
The studio
was as impressive as the rest of the place, very large for
one thing, with a concert grand piano and soundeffects
paraphernalia. I walked to the standing microphone and
looked into the darkened engineer's room beyond the slanting
glass. There was an old-time engineer, and Al Morey nodded
his head and threw me a hand cue, and I began.
After my
interview he told me he'd let me know, and the next day I
repeated the process at WMAQ. Then I waited. Finally, Al
Morey called. I not only had the job, I was under contract
for more money than I had dreamed of earning. My 2 1/2 years
of doing network commercials for a local radio station had
paid off, and I was now a CBS network announcer on a station
whose coverage blanketed most of the midwestern United
States, to say nothing of the country's second largest
metropolitan market.
Indeed, I had arrived. I was giddy with a
sudden inflation of my self-esteem. I was a passable writer,
and I could hold my own with any announcer in the country. I
was off and running. My preparation had paid off. Where were
all those 450 unemployed union card–carrying announcers?
