Oink!

Walking through my High School lobby was one of the most stressful activities of sophomore year. I never knew where to look, so I usually just looked down at the floor. By graduation, I think I memorized the location of every crack and piece of gum all the way from Hall B to the cafeteria. It felt like everyone was staring at me, but I knew that it was all in my head along with all the other crazy thoughts: “Why did I pick these clothes today? ... Are these pimples ever going away? ... I think I’m getting fatter by the second!” I quickly glanced to the right and saw a table of football players all standing around in their team jackets. They were smiling and laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world, and I wished I could be more like them. On the other side of the lobby, Dawn and Michelle were sitting by the window applying lip gloss. They were arguably the hottest girls in the class. The sun illuminated their feathered-back hair, and I wondered if I’d ever get to say anything to them besides, “Excuse me”. I was so relieved to finally make it through the lobby. I approached a large, metal blue door with crooked, painted yellow letters that read, “WKWZ”, and pulled it open with all my strength. It squeaked shut as I disappeared into the dark hallway and was finally free.

There was barely enough light to see, but I knew exactly where I was going. I let out a deep breath and descended down about 50 concrete stairs. With each step, my heart rate slowed, my breathing became easier and I think my skin actually started clearing. The air was cool and my steps echoed in the darkness. As I got to the bottom, the sound of Elvis Costello’s music and the smell of cigarette smoke welcomed me immediately. I pushed the door of the radio station open and Agnes’ face brightened as soon as I walked in. She was a woman in her 50’s who was more like a really cool aunt than a secretary. She pushed a cigarette into the coffee cup in front of her on the desk and lit another. “Important day, Billy, nervous?” “I’ll be fine”, I replied with a smile, and headed towards the back of the station. On the way, I ran into Judd, a junior who was generally regarded as a class comedian. He worked as a DJ and an engineer at the station. He also knew my older sister, who worked at the radio station and convinced me to join when I first came to High School. “So the little Reisacher wants to be a newscaster just like his sister?” he said with a devilish grin. I laughed silently at the joke and continued on to the Associated Press machine.

The AP machine looked something like a military weapon used by the Germans in World War II. It was a hulking mass of grey metal which made the sound of repeating artillery as it belched out reams of thick, tan paper with the latest news typed like telegraph messages. I ripped off some “copy” and arranged a 15 minute newscast that included international, national, state and local news along with sports, weather and a 30 second public service announcement. This was going to be my audition for the news department. I wanted desperately to go on the air. I walked into the studio, arranged my papers on the desk in front of me and placed the headphones on my head. I swung the microphone in front of me and tilted it into the perfect position. I looked up into the engineering booth and saw Judd smiling at me through the glass. He fiddled with some controls and slowly tilted his finger towards me. The red light in the studio began to glow.

My voice was strong and I felt really good about the newscast. I kept telling myself to slow down, pronounce every syllable and avoid saying, “umm”. I made it through international news and was covering some U.S. stories when a heard a strange sound in my headphones. I paused, thinking it was feedback, but then the noise repeated. It could only be described as the mating call of a chimpanzee, although I’m not really an expert on this topic. I decided to move on to local news, but when I said “news”, the sound, “moooo!” played instead. In horror, I paused once again and looked up. Although I couldn’t hear any sound from behind the glass, Judd was obviously laughing his head off. He caught himself from falling backwards on his chair and sat up, putting on a serious face that didn’t convince me. I made it all the way to sports, but then the sound effects returned just as I was giving the scores for women’s field hockey. “Oink, oink, oink!” I practically felt the porky breath of a trough-full of muddy swines right in my ear. Amidst the cacophony of squeals and grunts, I tried to choke back the laughter. Trying not to lose bladder control, I cleared my throat, turned the volume knob on my headphones down and finished the newscast.

Although it may sound unbelievable, I was accepted into the news department and went into regular rotation on the air. I covered evening news and eventually became the News Director of the station. I also hosted a weekly health show called, “No Preservatives”, probably one of the earliest signs of my interest in medicine. Throughout my high school years, the radio station was a place where I could go and just be myself. Everybody who worked there was a little different or strange in their own way, but down in that basement, we accepted each other and had a blast both on and off the air. Judd went on to do pretty well for himself. On that day, I didn’t find his joke very amusing, but as I watched his movies, “Knocked Up” and “The 40-Year-Old Virgin”, I’ve come to appreciate the humor of Judd Apatow. Thanks, my friend, wherever you are.