Ron awoke with a start.
Sitting up in bed, he pulled back the curtains and looked out at the snow piling up in the backyard - it was really coming down, he couldn't even see the makeshift antenna he had installed last spring on the roof of the garage.
He must have dozed off while doing his homework, it was only quarter past seven.
Reaching for his transistor radio on the nightstand, he switched it on and began methodically twisting the dial. It was a perfect night for DXing: WLS, KJR, KGO; they were all coming in loud and clear.
He tuned back to CKLG to see what Stevie Wonder was up to. 'Time Has Come Today' by the Chambers Brothers - the long version, not the edited single - was playing. Unbelievable! He had heard it just the day before on CKLG-FM when Darryl B had introduced it, and now, here it was again.
Tomorrow he'd head down to Kellys' on Columbia Street and buy the 45 with the money he'd saved from his paper route; it would have to do until he could save up enough to get the lp.
The song sounded louder than bombs on his tiny little six transistor radio. He imagined Stevie sitting in the control room fifteen miles away, bouncing up and down in his chair while madly twisting the pot, cranking it higher and higher as 'LG's transmitter blasted the song into the ether.
TIME!
With a final crescendo the record ended and Bud Bolton was intro-ing the 20/20 news. Nothing major happening in the big city, the cops were staking out the Penthouse again, harrassing the strippers, or exotic dancers as owner Joe Philiponi preferred to call them.
Bud was something else. An announcer's announcer.
Ron looked forward to his newscasts; he didn't particularly care what Bud was talking about, he just liked the sound of his voice and the cadence and inflections it made as the stories were read.
Stevie was probably cueing up his next record by now, rotating it into position on the heavy duty Russko turntable with the green felt padding. Ron wondered what it would be. He was hoping for the song 'Born To Be Wild' by Steppenwolf. Stevie had played it last hour but it was due to come up again.
Ron had read in the new issue of Creem that that group's debut lp had been recorded in only four days!
Bud was wrapping up the 'cast now and the medium-tempo acapella CKLG jingle was on, so it probably wouldn't be Steppenwolf.
The jingle ended, now back to MUCH MORE MUSIC!
What the hell was that?
Five descending guitar notes turned into a bass-heavy downbeat and harmonica-fueled rock-hard blues shuffle.
Stevie was screaming over the song's intro, something about 'Canned Heat out of Los Angeles,' wrapping up his introduction at the precise moment that the song's vocal kicked in:
"Well, I'm so tired of crying, but I'm out
on the road again.
- I'm on the road again.
Well, I'm so tired of crying, but I'm out
on the road again.
- I'm on the road again.
I ain't got no woman
Just to call my special friend."
Oh man, he hadn't heard this before.
Ron glanced out the window at the snow rapidly piling up in the yard as the song played on.
"You know the first time I traveled out
in the rain and snow,
- In the rain and snow.
You know the first time I traveled out
in the rain and snow,
- In the rain and snow.
I didn't have no payroll,
Not even no place to go."
Canned Heat. Another new group. Amazing. The song ended the same way it began, with five descending guitar notes into a quick jingle and the start of a song that Ron recognized as the latest single from Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
Oh, oh. Don't need to hear that one.
With a flick of the wrist he was in San Francisco.
Ira Blue was broadcasting from the Hungry I. Ron had never been to San Francisco, but listening to Ira over the past couple of years, he felt that he had come to know the city pretty well.
Last year the Monterey Pop Festival had been big news. Eric Burdon had a hit out now called "Monterey," describing what it was like to have been there. Last year of course, "San Franciscan Nights" had been another huge hit for Burdon and his band the Animals.
"Ronnie! Ronnie, are you down there?"
It was his mother, calling to him from the top of the stairs. Probably something to do with his homework, Ron surmised.
Turning off the radio, he sighed, and walked over to the stairwell.
"Coming mom," he replied.
No matter, the radio stations and all of their great announcers would be there again tomorrow. Hell, they'd be there forever, entertaining us with music, crazy contests, good humour, and friendly banter.
It was the best of all possible worlds, and Ron was happy to be a part of it.