I still adore Dick Biondi and can fondly recall listening to his D.J. broadcast on WLS-Chicago. I often would lie in bed at night with my little Rocket Crystal Radio's speaker in my ear. Sometimes, at night, it could pull in faraway rock music, including WLS, with the incomparable Biondi's zany commentary and cool music. My crystal radio required no power source and had one wire for an antenna that I clipped to the steel chain of my cast iron horse's bridle and another for the earpiece. To find a radio frequency, I would move the rocket's nose cone very slowly until its carbon rod receiver flooded my brain with Biondi's music and dialogue. I often fell asleep listening to the music. Later, my electronic whiz, Uncle Gordon, visited and gave me my own transistor radio, a Heathkit he assembled that ran on six 'D' cell batteries. It offered better sound and channel tuning without needing an ear jack. I often wish Dick’s program would be available today. Those were special times.
Three years ago, I published my first book, Distant Dreamer. It is about two teen boys who get a summer job as assistant guides, working in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) of northern Minnesota. The boys face rough portages, learn camp cooking from an incarnate French-Canadian voyageur, and are trained to be fishing guides. They work for an Ely, MN, wilderness outfitter who has set up a backcountry experience for a group of clients with disabilities. I bring my own experiences into the novel with the incredible influence of our first male teacher at the venerable Quinnesec School. The two excerpts below are fictionalized accounts of myself and a classmate as they rested in the outfitter bunkhouse before their first BWCAW trip begins. They are based on my memories of listening to The Man, Dick Biondi.
Excerpt 1:
Mark had noticed a radio antenna atop the bunkhouse roof. He checked behind the radio and found a wire connected to the antenna screw then snaked up the wall into the ceiling. This just might allow him to bring in stations far away! He moved the tuner arrow directly to his old favorite oldies station 970KC, WLS in Chicago. All at once, he hit a clear channel and heard a very familiar and welcome voice, Dick Biondi! Biondi was a maverick D.J. on WLS. He was often in trouble because of his on-air comments, but his loyal fans loved him because he played the best music.
“Yahoo!" Mark shouted. "We are in high clover, my man!"
Mark turned up the volume and adjusted the bass level, just as the next platter began to spin on Biondi’s magic turntable. Clear as a bell came Elvis' rich voice belting out Heartbreak Hotel. The large speakers, which filled the bottom of the console, had a sound like a Wurlitzer jukebox. As Elvis sang, the room vibrated and they both began gyrating in their version of American Bandstand.
Excerpt 2:
After chatting awhile about their day and the coming trip, Mark got up and wandered over to the old Zenith radio. His finger turned the massive volume knob. After the initial humming faded, it was replaced by the strains of WLS, Chicago's golden oldies station. The beginning notes of one of the greatest duos, The Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody, pulsed wonderfully through the big bass speakers. Both of them lay back to enjoy it with the lights out. Except for the soft glow from the lighted radio dial, darkness prevailed. The old hit songs flowed magically, along with zany commentary from Dick Biondi. The Tokens sang The Lion Sleeps Tonight, while Bob and Mark hummed along with the strange, primitive lyrics. It may have been their only hit song. “One-hit wonders” were common in the ‘50s and ‘60s. There was more opportunity for an unknown singer to break into the pop charts, unlike the present where fewer “name” artists monopolized the music. Mark had followed some of the singers’ success stories, such as how Elvis Presley cut his first record while employed as a truck driver. His meteoric success as “The King” forever changed rock and roll. Another unusual success was Rick Nelson. He had his start as a young boy on a TV sitcom, The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet. This was his real family! Rick and brother Dave Nelson and their parents were a weekly series hit. Rick would always play his guitar and sing during the episodes. It was appropriate that the next song featured Rick Nelson’s hit, Poor Little Fool.
With a maestro of spinning discs of rock and roll music and the influence of my innovative, creative role model teacher in Ray Mariucci as my life guides, my future was well-plotted. I write from the heart and try to infuse my characters with some of the marvelous attributes I gleaned from these extraordinary life mentors. I will always be in their debt.
Barry D'Alberto