About 24 hours ago the Gypsy Scholar posted an announcement on FB, as the he does each week, for his Tower of Song program. When asked about the time broadcast and if the program would be archived for future listening, he responded that it definitely would be. This is to report that he was wrong. Apparently, due to a malfunction in the radio station's computer system that records are programs for archival purposes, the GS's program did not get recorded.

 

Therefore the GS apologizes for his blind faith in the station's technology and thus for the false alarm. (He now realizes why the station recently had a special fund drive to raise money to update our ancient equipment! As far as the GS can remember, this has only happened once before during the change from PST to PDT; it caused a glitch in the computer and the programs, including mine, on the 1st day of the time change didn't get recorded.) Now the GS is not an engineer, just a volunteer programmer, so until he hears from the station engineer he has no confirmation of whether his program is actually gone forever, or perhaps saved somewhere else in the system. However, since the GS did find last week's program on the computer (and each week the old program is overwritten by the new) for download, he is assuming that the current program didn't get recorded.

 

Yes, gone forever! The GS knows that this must come as a disappointment to his regular online listeners, who could not hear the original broadcast, as well as new potential listeners who were looking forward to hearing it. But let me assure you that no one is more disappointed, not to mention more frustrated, than the GS. It would just have to be the GS's bad luck that this would have to happen when you put out a musical essay that really rocks--when everything (the words, music, images) really comes together in that inimitable live-radio moment. As a philosophical DJ, you feel all the work you put in pays off.

 

The GS means "pays off" only in a figurative sense. You see, as a "volunteer" (i.e., no programmers get paid at a community/NPR radio station), the GS doesn't mind telling you that he puts a hell of a lot of work each week on his two-hour program. And the kind of programming the GS does (unlike what a common DJ does) ain't that easy. (This should not be construed as a slight to our great DJs--what they do is invaluable.)

 

For instance, this last program on William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell--it isn't like you can just read some articles, or even skim a book on it, and think you have something to say, let alone something new to say. It takes a tremendous amount of time for the musical essay's "flowers of discourse," even if the GS has a background in English Lit. ("To create a little flower is the labour of ages." WB) This is why he likes to quote the verse of his theme-song: "I'm just paying my rent every day ... tied to this table ... in the Tower of Song." But for whatever reason, the GS feels its worth all the blood, sweat and tears to crank out a program week after week, and not take the easy way out--get on the air and just play songs.  (And only the radio programmer can know the kind of panic (attack) that ensues when they've fallen behind and there's a danger that they will be unprepared to go on the air!)  However, when this kind of technical scew-up happens, it seems like a waste of time and energy, especially when the time put to producing a program, on the air and off, causes the rest of one's life to suffer (i.e., one's other volunteer work for other good causes and for one's livelihood, not to mention chronic sleep derivation!).

 

Yes, this is hard to take when, because of the "late-night" time slot of the program, you rely on the program being available 24/7 for those listeners who have "regular" hours and can't stay up for the original broadcast. (And given the move toward streaming online, the program host figures they probably have more potential audience online than through actual terrestrial radio.) So the GS doesn't mind telling his audience that at times like these he feels like maybe it's time to retire and do something else with this spare time and his creative energies. ("Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night." WB)

 

The GS should explain that we at community radio (at this station that's been in existence for almost forty years) feel a special commitment to our sophisticated and discerning core audience (ask Ira Glass!) Thus, it's so tragic when a technical screw-up like this happens. It's about pleasing a core audience. After all, how could the GS let down the ex-hippy homeless guy who makes a special trip to the library in order to get a computer to hear my program! It's like food for his soul! :)

 

Yeah, you feel like a fool wasting your time, and just want to say, "fuck it!"--and move on to do something else. But then in his unbearable frustration, the GS remembers what he read this morning from Blake's "Proverbs of Hell"--a hell of a proverb: "If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise."

 

Given this technical screw-up, the GS is announcing a change in programming. He had planned a two-part musical essay on Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. This morning's (PDT) program consisted of a reading of the work (with music based upon the work) in order to prepare listeners who are unfamiliar with it for the next musical essay, which was to be a critical look at the work, offering the GS's own interpretation. Now that there's no "introductory" program, it seems futile of go on with the next essay. Therefore, the GS will do something else next week (and maybe return to The Marriage of Heaven and Hell another time).