So this is what it's really like to get old or am I destine to become the next Robert D Raiford?
There used to be a time when "being from" Charlotte carried a little weight. Business relationships generated revenue based on the depth of localism not the latest fads and research.
Spending the summer at the River not Lakes Wylie and Norman gave off the scent of homegrown not a transplant from Ohio, Rhode Island, West Virginia or Florida.
Guys spent longer than twenty minutes at gas pumps developing their own opinions about the latest rumors about the radio guy John Boy at Plum Crazy on Tyvola road. While the ladies would point, roll their heathering eyes then giggle about catching Tammy Fae Bakker buying fabulous fashions at South Park Mall.
I've always been a little bit jealous of "Real" Charlottean's. To be part of the original cast has always come with superbly told stories. Every neighbor has an uncle who did while a sister that didn't then quickly followed with a catchy ass laugh that still states, "Glad it wasn't me but damn happy they're gonna be ok."
The thickness of Charlotte's southern accent changes at every stoplight. Westside puts you up against Gaston and Cleveland County, East meant leaning toward Harrisburg and Albemarle. The North slams you into the coattails of NASCAR's Iredell County while Kannapolis and Concord silently bid on their proper dominance with I-85 being their only separation.
When I arrived on March 11, 1985 the upper levels of age still had a firm grip on inventive teens and college scenes baked with students barely touching their twenties. Church Pastors fought to keep Playboy Magazine out of convenience stores, Mayors ran their campaigns based on filling chuckholes at major intersections and Downtown was renamed Uptown but nobody cared because it was cheaper to live in Rock Hill, SC.
Charlotte Radio was in a dogfight. Z100, WROQ and WBCY planted multiple amounts of promotional dollars into projects that ignited the cities imagination. From canisters of money being hidden behind rocks, buried in Georgia clay and or slid up against billboards on Independence Blvd; listener's wasted no time taking out every barrier to find cha ching.
Chuck Boozer from EZ 104.7 gave away a house near Park Road in a day when the lanes were only one on each side wide. Magic 96 hadn't been born and yet the music they would one day play fed cold Carolina nights with cuddly snuggly reasons why most of us were born.
So this is what it's really like to get old or am I destine to become the next Robert D Raiford?
I don't expect anyone outside the John Boy and Billy network to know who Robert is...but when all the dust fades and memories can no longer be placed on sticks his name will still mean something.
He tells it like it is. No matter how thick the fog created by fake politicians, well educated heart surgeons connected to overpriced hospitals and home builders who've chopped down nearly every limb in a place once dubbed Tree City USA... Robert D Raiford has never been afraid of being himself.
A longtime Radio Broadcaster trained by the biggest and best in the business on a mission to keep this Twitter addicted Face Book drunk generation hanging on to the importance of single thoughts too heavy to shove to the side but light enough to laugh out loud like two little boys farting n the backseat of your parents car.
I love running into Raiford in the hall. Too bad I'm not one of those new age smart phones where such bumps would instantly transfer his rivers of experience into my memory banks. But I'm not...so each unexpected meeting, greeting and or commercial that needs to be produced... I've made it my business to steal his art.
Being Carolina raised creates character but ultimately it's being a Broadcaster that's shaped the value of his word. One that's that poked fun of, ignored and or poured over neighborhood BBQ's because someone caught up with it on YouTube.
He's always been that guy! The sturdy rusty nail in a board waiting for you to step on it.
A new hero has been born in Charlotte, NC! Due to his poor attitude on our playing field Steve Smith of the Carolina Panthers took it upon himself to question the conduct of one Cam Newton. In the Charlotte Observer Mr. Smith was quoted, "If I'm afraid to say something who will?"
I have an answer to the question? Robert D Raiford.
For the love of God doesn't everybody know Raiford questioned Christopher Columbus's reasons for floating 3 ships named The Nina, Pinta and The Santa Maria across a flat planet? It's Raiford that sees his shadow first on Ground Hogs Day not some spunky ass furry creature in a city park. Raiford should get all the credit for the South becoming a revitalized positive progression. He spoke the words of truth that inspired the leaders to think not once but twice about decisions that might have kept this area of history in the books defeat.
There is a "Real man" behind that voice. Not too many "Radio" people can say that. For their journey has evolved into a method of liner card reading do as your told performances in cities they've never visited. As a listener you should be questioning, "Are they really there?" If not how does their radio FCC license get away with serving your community?
Wouldn't it be great if the jock on the air knew what local traffic was really like rather than dropping four hours of perfectly edited vocal tracks then racing out the door to catch the latest sale at South Park Mall?
So this is what it's really like to get old or am I destine to become the next Robert D Raiford?
arroe@arroe.net
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