I'm still working out the kinks, but it looks like I can post audio to the picture gallery now. While this may seem a little counter-intuitive, it works out well as an organizational structure for storing the audio files I generate at work. This way, I can post them with a little comment and not have to delve into the HTML all that much. Plus, you can rate them or comment on them as well as browse or search them. Good times. My first test is an okay bit that happened when a credit card solicitor called us up at the station and we just talked to them for a little. Tell me if you get it to work, how easy you find the interface, etc. Then audio is located here. The album is located here. Much will change in the next week or so, but I wanted to see what you all thought.

I had hoped to have set up the new audio file organizer by now, but it looks like I'll have to wait until later in the week. However, I promised some audio, and that I give unto you. The audio quality is awful (see earlier post about how we were recording the show on cassette), but the story is mildly amusing. Big laughs? Not really. Mild amusement? Hopefully. Enjoy. All Hail the Cat Lady For those of you new to the game, the other voice is Tracy, my co-host.

Just when I finish complaining about how little love I get at work, Duane, our engineer, comes through. Duane scratches together 3 weeks of minidiscs for us, allowing us to now record our show in a digital format and archive it for at least a little while. What does that mean for you, the home reader? Almost nothing. Well, almost. Now, with the track indexing of minidiscs, it will be much easier to pull "best of" segments. Also, it will be much easier to post audio from the show to prove to everyone that I am actually gainfully employed. Like, starting tomorrow. I've been trying to upgrade the photo gallery, because the new version allows for catergorizing of audio, but I've run into quite the buzzsaw trying to fight it off. We'll see. But, thank you, Duane. It seems that, much like in the armed forces, you're not doing it for your boss or the company, but instead for your fellow worker. We must stick together to get things done, because if it were attempted through the proper channels it never would get done. It's almost like we're not on the same team. P.S. I also put some google ads on the front page to see if that might turn out okay. I presume no one cares now, but that's not why they're there. With a little bit of luck, this whole radio thing might become successful, drawing listeners to the site and hopefully I can make a few bucks off them. Literally, a few bucks. P.P.S. I also just added a Google search on my site that allows you to search the site or the entire web from my page. A revolutionary feature? No. Cool other gadget? Yes.

I have been listening to cassettes of shows Tracy and I have done recently to throw together a best-of show for Labor Day. In the listening back, I have discovered three things. 1 - I hate my voice. 2 - My laugh is awful, pathetic, and makes me want to vomit. 3 - If you record on one cassette about a hundred times, the sound quality is putrid. Some of the stuff we've done has been mildly amusing, but unfortunately due to the great audio quality, it sounds like we're broadcasting from a lo-fidelity time warp. How can this problem be fixed? Easily! Buy more audio-cassettes and don't reuse them. My previous employer has cassette copies of almost every show he's done in the past fifteen years. So, I asked the fine corporation of Cumulus to purchase a box of a hundred cassettes for us. A seemingly standard request, with a cost of around $50 to $75. That was around a month ago. Since then I have found out that the station requires DJs to buy their own cassettes for airchecks - which is lame, but not awful as they don't need to keep more than a few days at a time. However, since we only currently have the four that Tracy found lying around the station, we currently have no ability to keep anything we do for longer than a week. When you factor in the lack of studio time that is often a problem (leaving us to record over things we wanted to keep), you can see why I might get frustrated. So, the conclusion? Our show is worth less than $100 more to the station. I guess that means I got almost every last penny out of them during contract talks... but if that's the case, there ain't many pennies lying around.

As if I needed another reminder that corporate America really doesn't have my best interests in mind (besides the whole you get no health insurance until you've worked here for three months, and the whole "Are you really leaving for the day after only having been here for eight hours? Your workday only started at 5AM, plus you only have to work for five hours every OTHER weekend! I mean, we're paying you almost 2/3rds of the average state wage!"), Hurricane Charley came through the other day. No real damage, but it dumped an unbelievable amount of water on the area Sunday. Well, no real damage until I opened Tracy's (my fellow morning show host) office. She was out on vacation, so no one noticed that the roof was leaking into her office. The water pooled on the carpet over the weekend, then turned to mold and mildew Monday and Tuesday. By Tuesday afternoon, the entire building smelled so bad that it was impossible to work in there. Imagine running a marathon while it rains. And it's 90 degrees out. Now take you socks off and put them in a cool, dark place for a few days, preferrably crumpled up. Now, have those socks surgically implanted into the lining of your nose. That's about what it smells like before you enter the building. Now, Tracy is expected to work in that office, which I expect at the bare minimum is a health-hazard, but also is quite the insult. Why an insult? Because the response to the mess was to open her office door and put a box fan near it. The carpet is ruined and probably carries the bubonic plague. However, the crack team at work decided that "she'll be fine" - or more accurately probably never really thought about it. She had to go out to the store and buy her own disinfectant to at least reduce her chances of dying by a carpet-bourne disease to about 50/50. Now, most people would just rip out the carpet. I understand if it takes awhile to get it replaced, becasue there was no notice, but why not rip it out now? There's a floor underneath. Plus, shouldn't insurance cover the damage anyway? At a bare minimum, bring somebody in to professionally clean it and kill all of the bacteria that now teems within its mass. But no, let's just leave it there to wallow in its damp stink and hope that if I catch something, I catch it before my insurance starts. Tomorrow begins day three of having to hold my breath any time I walk down the hall. At least she brought in an apple-cinnamon air freshener to make the studio palatable. Oh, and just to be clear, this post in no way represents the views of Cumulus.