Thursday, July 18, 2013.
Twenty-Five Years Later.
Around this time in 1988, I agonized a bit about whether to accept an offer from WSMB Radio to give me a two-hour daily talk show. Both aspects of the job--being on the radio, and talking about food--were my idea of the perfect career.
On the other hand, for the previous eight years I had done well writing freelance, with a little radio on the side. None of that kept me nailed down. I liked writing, and could do it anywhere, anytime.
Most of what I wrote about was food. A few months before, I disappeared for three weeks in Finland, France and Italy, accepting a bunch of invitations extended to me after several other people--all of whom had regular jobs they couldn't escape easily--turned them down. This sort of thing happened to me pretty often, and I loved it.
And I was still single, too. A nice, loose-fitting life. But I was thirty-seven, and felt the need to exert a bit more rigor and discipline on myself. So when I met with Mary Ann Connell for the second time, to find out what kind of money and time commitment WSMB had in mind, I accepted the offer. I could always quit, right?
How could I have known that this semi-temporary assignment would still be twice as time-consuming and many times as remunerative twenty-five years later? That I would take a liking to Mary Ann when I saw her striding around the studios? Or that less than a year later we'd be married?
For all my misgivings, this Food Show job, marriage, and fatherhood must have been perfect for me, because I still feel good about it all. Never had any doubts about it.
To be doing the same thing on the same radio station after twenty-five years was so unlikely a prospect in 1988 that I still shake my head about it. Hardly anyone stays at the same broadcasting post anywhere near that long. Or survives eight major station format changes and four ownership changes, while doing exactly the same show (down to the theme music!). It's the longest-running radio show in New Orleans by far. If I make it to thirty years, it will be the longest tenure of all time here.
But I think and crow about all this longevity stuff far too much. The challenge now is to keep it vital. Which, at my age, is not easy. Fortunately, the success of the show and its position on the company's second-string talk station make it mine to screw up. And, I'm sure, the show depends greatly on the continued health of program director Diane Newman, who has been very kind to me and my radio antics.
We celebrated the anniversary with a remote broadcast and an Eat Club event at Commander's Palace. Where else but the best all-around restaurant in town?
The show part featured two striking moments. In the first hour, Chef Torey McPhail led a parade of twenty-five chefs (how many restaurants even have that many cooks?) from the kitchen through the courtyard into the Patio Room. Each one carried the ingredients that would go into our six-course dinner tonight. Most of them came up to the microphone and explained what was special about these vegetables this crab, that bird.
In the third hour, we were treated to a second parade, this one of twenty-five waiters, each carrying a martini, each with a different color. Ti Martin, one of the owners of Commander's and daughter of Ella Brennan, said that it was mostly for visual effect--me with twenty-five martinis on the table in front of me. No, I don't think I'll ever see the like of that again.
Tomorrow, the dinner and the wines.
To browse through all of the Dining Diaries since 2008, go here.
