In retrospect, not working for WBCN is a huge regret. That’s not to say I turned down the opportunity (who would?), but a variety of twists and turns, ended up with me starting at WZLX 3 days after my 21st birthday. That internship turned into a job, and that job turned into a career. No need to drone on about that — fascinating as it is. Instead, and in his odd, yet infinite wisdom, Charles Laquidara threw a party and everybody showed up.
What started as a small get-together for folks who worked on the Big Mattress (in all its incarnations) soon grew into a gathering for anyone who ever worked on the Mattress and at WBCN. This ended up packing the Paradise this past Friday, and became a potent reminder to what radio was, how it could grow, and how smart, creative people become mitigated by corporate insecurity. But this isn’t supposed to be a tale of woe, nor is it a cattle call of celebs and gossip from the night. It’s more than that … much more.
Last Friday I reconnected with folks I haven’t seen in over a decade. Each one has gone onto a variety of pursuits, but unlike your high school reunion no one felt compelled to be better/brighter/richer/prettier than the other. Instead, the moment excelled simply because we were there. Like some kind of karmic communism, the absolute joy was distributed around for everyone to share in equally. And we did.
WBCN is gone, tragically. The critics say it’s been gone for years now. But while it was there, everyone from morning show interns to on-air talent was able to bask in a glory that comes out of knowing we all contributed. We all mattered, and we would gladly trade what we were doing now for the opportunity to be part of it all over again. Even someone as tangential (and cynical) as I felt it.
That kind of devotion doesn’t come out of today’s media conglomerates. And it’s sorely lacking in the boardrooms of corporate America. More than just a profession, WBCN was a passion for those on either side of the broadcast.
If the WBCN gathering reminds us of anything, it’s that passion is in short supply. Finding it makes the world go round. Or at the very least, it makes it worth something…
