In the 60s, AM and FM radio was similar to what smartphones are to the present generation: a very close friend.
My radio was one of my very best friends. I had a small transistor radio that fit in my pocket. It was ultra small, and a very very beloved companion during long walks, sad times and sadder times.
CJAD’s morning man Bill Roberts would accompany me the start of every school day, be it getting dressed or eating my peanut butter and jelly toast. At 8.20, “skedaddle”, as uttered in Bill’s unique way meant-off I go into the freezing cold, prodding my way to Sir Winston, often picking up Miller on the way. CJAD was not always the most popular station, but very few people I know did not listen to Bill Roberts.
Gord Sinclair from CFCF was another one of my favourites. He had a perfect voice which had I been blessed with, and had I stayed in Quebec, may have landed me in radio. Eventually Gord purchased CFOX, a country music station. True, French Canadians love country music, but not only French Canadians. I’m a Jewish Canadian by birth, who was addicted to CFOX. “Whether you’re at home or in your car, country music’s never far, just turn your dial and let it stay-on C_F_O_X.”
Paul Reid, again CJAD, used to read poetry between songs. I used to write down the names of the poems and try to find them at the Ville St Laurent library, and learn them par coeur, by heart. Whenever I think about Montreal, French creeps in. Nowadays, no one would listen to Reid, and that says a lot, not about Reid but about listening to radio nowadays.
At night, starting at about 10pm, I would look stand with my transistor near the window looking for WWVA in Wheeling West Virginia and WKBW in Buffalo. The former featured songs from the Grand Old Opre and the latter featured Joey Reynolds, the greatest radio announcer on the face of the planet. Reynolds must have laboured hours on each show. He played about 6 characters all at once. I was hooked on WKBW although the static to clear content was NOT in my favour.
I was upset when Dad told me that HK Bassior’s first name is Hank. HK was the all-night man; his program “Milkman’s Matinee” featured a corner called “Stump your Neighbour” during which people would quiz one another with silly questions, such as “How long was 100 Years War” or “How do you say in French “cote des neiges”. Dad knew HK’s father; he was the CFO of Beth El, the synagogue Dad belonged to, but rarely frequented. “Stand by for HK Bassior, and his Milkman’s Matinee”.
Dave Boxer is undoubtedly the best-known DJ ever to work in Montreal radio. I used to go to les centres d’achats (malls) from which he broadcast to watch him in action. His popularity among music lovers was simply out of the world, way before branding existed. Boxer understood that the 60’s was all about music. And his choice of music was outstanding. When he talked, he had planned what he wanted to say-and people listened. Especially teen agers!
In Israel, my romance with radio continued-707 with Alex Ansky and Tramp with Dori Ben Zeev. I knew Dori very well, and when Hadassah died, he played a super sad song about tears falling from the sky. Hadassah worked at Kol Israel as an editor of the “Literary Corner”. She was a beautiful woman but had a surprisingly deep radiophonic voice. She was my wife.
Like many things in my life, so much has changed. I have my 400 song Spotify list which I listen to most of the time. I am no longer interested in new music that comes out. I prefer 60’s, with no yak yak. Paul, Bill, HK, Dave-all belong to the past. I guess that so do I.
