“Polkas, Bartels and Some Dusty LPs.” Or, “Remembering WARD-AM.”

Scott Sanfilippo — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 23:53:18 +0000

Sometimes the craziest things spark a memory.

Whether it be the smell of burning leaves that reminds you of fall and spirals you into seasonal depression or the obscured back road in the middle of nowhere that reminds you of the first time you tried out back-seat yoga in your old Chevelle.

Today, I had to go and do a walk-thru of a rental property I own, as the renter is moving out. I lived in this house about 6 years ago and thought I got all my stuff out of it back then, but came upon an interesting stash up in the attic.

In 1987 I got my first job in radio working for Jim & Dorothy Ward at WARD-AM in Pittston, PA. It was a 10,000 watt day timer and one of the few remaining independently owned, yet stand-alone, AM radio stations in northeast Pennsylvania. After Jim’s death in 1994, the place went down the toilet and I moved on in 1997 right before it was sold.

WARD was unique to say the very least. Some day I’ll talk more about my time there and the craziness that went on inside a building that had house trailers attached to it, shag carpeting on the walls, flakeboard for paneling and an oil burner that always ran out of oil during my shift. WARD was the very first station in the market to embrace an all talk format and introduced Rush Limbaugh to northeast PA. High school sports was a big part of the station’s programming (and a big help for cash flow) as was Polka Weekend.

Yes, Polka Weekend.

Sam Liguori, Dale Michaels (aka Rusty Fender / Shadoe Steele), Rob Neyhard, Brunon Kryger and myself, along with rotating part-timers, overtook the radios in every nursing home, bingo hall, VFW, corner bar and Polish household in NEPA beginning at 6am Saturday morning and not giving up until the bars ran out of Bartels late Sunday night.

We did air shifts ranging from 4 to 6 hours, did live on-air requests and dedications without a delay, queued up records, and did more remotes from church bazars and fire company picnics than I care to count, yet remember. There were no computers loaded with MP3 files – we had boxes of records, yes records, that we flipped through and queued up on turntables. Commercials and bumpers were recorded on “carts” – audio cartridges similar to an 8-track tape. There were no CD players and the Sunday early morning religious programs came in the mail on 7-inch reel-to-reel tape. When we had to voice commercials, we had to splice tape with real razor blades, not a Mac running Adobe Audition.

Today, I stumbled upon 2 boxes of those records we used to spin on Polka Weekend hiding in the attic. Notes are taped to some of them which say things like, “Don’t play cut 3 it skips” or “Do not remove from studio” – glad I paid attention to that one. They all look like they’re in good condition and aren’t warped, but I don’t have a turntable to verify.

After finding this cache, I started thinking about the time I spent at WARD and looked for some photos that I had of the old place. Low and behold, I even found some of them, with a very young and thinner looking me.

Some memories you want to forget, some you want to remember. Memories of WARD I’ll always cherish as it was a special, one-of-a-kind place even if the place at 83 Foote Avenue in Duryea is now a junk yard.

Here I am chatting on the phone in the main studio. The Lazy Susan cart rack is in the back holding all the commercials. The black and white TV up in the corner was the only entertainment we had, and also served as the audio source for when we broadcast WNEP-TV news at 6pm and 11pm during the week. The red EBS binder contained the envelope with the secret code and instructions on what to do “in the event of a real emergency!” That strange contraption to the left with the circle of orange felt is a turn table – something that doesn’t exist in radio stations today!

Here I am donning a set of Radio Shack head phones, wearing an Izod shirt and some stone washed denim – sure signs of the 80′s. The Electro Voice RE20 mic in the on-air studio was a big investment at the time.

If you look closely there is a block of wood that we used to prop up the telos telephone interface so we can see it at a better angle. The walls in the studio were wrapped in lovely shag carpeting and the jock sitting at the board faced a clock on the other side of the wall and a big hole in the roof that leaked when it rained, but it was the only way the cables from the satellite dishes in the back got into the building.

“Large, X-Large, Jumbo, Titanic.” Or, “Yes Helen, Size Matters.”

Scott Sanfilippo — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 18:58:58 +0000

The most famous ocean liner in the world, Titanic, now has a shrimp named after her.

In marketing we love to use descriptors that make us feel good, such as “world’s greatest” or “America’s favorite.” But we all know it’s just one big pile of pig slop. Just look in your own neighborhood and count the number of sub shops that claim to have the “World’s Greatest Cheesesteak.”

We buy into the spin every day whether it’s when we’re looking for a new vacuum cleaner such as the Oreck Halo that claims to kill viruses or a new Hyundai that claims to be the car with “America’s Best Warranty.” Nobody really challenges claims like these, nor has anyone ever sued Mary’s Sub Shop for having the worst cheesesteak despite her “world’s greatest” claim.

Superlatives are all around us and these words and phrases play a major role in our purchasing decisions, which is why they are used constantly. Whether the purveyor of the goods can actually back up these descriptors is another story. Some succeed, most fail.

I use the humble shrimp as an example.

The ocean’s favorite bottom feeder has a marketing life of its own in every restaurant in every corner of the world. Shrimp farmers raise various size shrimp from the tiny, tiny salad shrimp to the larger variety that make up a delicious shrimp cocktail. The fish industry assigned codes for the various size of shrimp based on the number that make up a pound. For example, the U-10 size shrimp mean you get 10 shrimp in a pound, whereas the U-15 comes 15 shrimp to a pound. Restaurants don’t normally tell you what U size the shrimp you are ordering will be, instead they use superlatives to speak about these diminutive crusteations.

“X-Large Peel & Eat”

“Jumbo Shrimp Cocktail”

Many times when the creature arrives next to a side of lemon and a dabble of cocktail sauce, we’re disappointed. X-Large and Jumbo aren’t quantifiable and one restauranteur’s vision of Jumbo may be a U-15 while another may be a U-6.

One of my favorite steakhouses is Old Homestead. With locations in the Meatpacking District in New York City, the Borgata Hotel & Casino in Atlantic City and at the Boca Raton Resort & Club in Florida, the Old Homestead has a unique take on the shrimp. They tossed aside the trite descriptors found on way too many menus and simply call their shrimp “Titanic” and it’s for good reason. These babys are U-4′s (4 to a pound) and at $9 a piece, they’re worth it.

I was in the mood for a good steak last night so down to the Club I went for dinner at Old Homestead. Now before you start adding this to your to-do list, the Boca Raton location is only open to hotel guests and Club members. Having dined here many times before, I knew just want I wanted and I wasn’t disappointed.

4 Titanic Shrimp from Old Homestead = 1 pound.	To put some perspective on the size. That's my thumb next to one of the Titanic Shrimp.
Here's how it stacks up to a 12oz Filet Mignon.	That's one Titanic Shrimp!
That's not a lobster, that's a shrimp.	And when it was all over, this is what was left.

While using the word “Titanic” to describe a shrimp may be a stretch of the imagination, compared to other descriptions of this classic appetizer, Old Homestead delivers upon the diner’s expectations.

Now if it were only that easy for cheesesteaks.

Scott Sanfilippo » Radio

“Polkas, Bartels and Some Dusty LPs.” Or, “Remembering WARD-AM.”

“Large, X-Large, Jumbo, Titanic.” Or, “Yes Helen, Size Matters.”