Back Home Again in Indiana
I forget where I saw the 8 Minute Memoir, but it seemed like a good writing exercise so I figured I’d jump on board. I’m already incredibly behind and have no idea when/if I’ll finish it. Such suspense!
I don’t remember when I decided I wanted to work in radio. I’m not one of those who played radio with a tape recorder as a child and “always knew I belonged behind a mic”. I actually spent the majority of my childhood talking to as few people as possible and convinced I was going to be a teacher. From the time I could talk, I told my parents I wanted to speak French, play flute, and be a teacher. 2(ish) out of 3 ain’t bad I guess.
I do, however, remember having the realization I didn’t really want to be a teacher so much as write on the chalkboard, and that’s probably not the best reason to be a teacher. I guess I landed on radio because it was always on. The TV was rarely on when I was growing up, but the radio was always on. Country, oldies, pop, classic rock. . .mine was a diverse childhood.
I remember telling my mom I wanted to work in radio and she asked me, “Oh you mean like do the news?” It was not what I meant, but she seemed on board with it so I went with it. I job shadowed at the local station a couple times (including on 9/11 which was crazy) in high school and realized that yes, this was really what I wanted to do with my life. And then, like the highly intelligent person I am, I majored in radio.
It’s actually kind of dumb to major in radio since you learn way more on the job than you do in any classroom. But at the same time it’s incredibly helpful to major in radio. . .IF you major at the right place. UIndy gave me the background I needed to land my first job. And I don’t mean it gave me highly specialized skills – I mean it gave me a broad base and real experience so I could apply for anything and everything which is exactly what I did. News, promotions, on air, production – everything but engineering. Production was the first job offer I got, and I’ve been with it ever since.
So maybe it’s okay to not remember every life altering decision. Actually, it’s probably better that way. Can you imagine how crazy I’d be if I was constantly reliving the exact moment I realized retiring from t-ball was a mistake? I was the greatest catcher the game has ever seen. Do you even know how many gold gloves I’d have by now? Hundreds.