THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, August 25, 1995 TAG: 9508240232
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: Medium: 87 lines
``Can you believe it?'' I asked my mother the other day. ``Michael Feldman is actually coming to town.''
``Michael Feldman, is he the Feldman boy who lived across the street from us in Bangor?'' she asked.
``No, he's the Feldman boy from Madison, Wis. His claim to fame is his two-hour Saturday morning radio program called ``Whad' Ya Know?'''
``And what kind of program would that be?'' Mother asked.
``Well, he's funny, he interviews people in the audience and on the phone and makes jokes about their home towns,'' I explained.
``Sort of like Don McNeil?'' she asked.
``Maybe a little,'' I agreed, ``but he doesn't have the audience marching around the breakfast table like Don McNeil did.''
McNeil was the host of the Breakfast Club, a 1940s radio show broadcast from Chicago every weekday morning. Its studio audience, as I recall, consisted mostly of farm wives who had arisen well before dawn to make the trip to the city.
The high point of each day's show was when the studio band struck up a march and all of the guests jumped up and marched around the breakfast table. I don't know if the table was real or not, or even if the guests were really marching. But that was the beauty of radio. One could imagine whatever one wanted to imagine.
That's still the beauty of radio and Feldman's show is no exception. While TV hits you over the head with reality, radio allows reality to be whatever you want it to be.
Actually being in the studio for a live broadcast is something really special. It may destroy some illusions but, like those farm wives, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have the experience. That's why I was so quick to cough up $50 for a pair of tickets to the Sept. 30 broadcast from Pavilion.
Michael Feldman talking about Virginia Beach is something I don't want to miss, even if he does get a little caustic at times. I figure this city is good enough to hold its own, especially if the mayor happens to show up to go one on one with the man from Madison. She's had the radio experience, she knows the tricks of that trade.
I couldn't wait to tell all my friends about getting tickets to see Feldman in action. Maybe my mother didn't know who he was, but surely there were others in town who did.
``Feldman?'' a friend from North Carolina asked blankly.
``He's on WHRV Saturday mornings,'' I explained patiently.
A look of recognition came over her face. ``Oh, yes. He's one of those mechanics from Brooklyn who tell you what's wrong with your car and talk funny,'' she said.
``No, he's not,'' I told her. ``He's from Wisconsin. And the mechanics aren't from Brooklyn, they're from Boston. And they don't talk funny; people from Carolina talk funny.''
I guess I was kind of insensitive, but I was getting frustrated. Especially after my experience in talking with a young woman who just received her Ph.D. in physics and is also a big public radio fan. ``It's the only thing I have programmed on my car radio,'' she told me.
``We have tickets for Feldman when he broadcasts from Virginia Beach in September,'' I said proudly.
``I'm not sure I'm familiar with Feldman. Which symphony does he direct?'' she asked, as perplexed as my Carolina friend.
Her reaction really took me back. I had visions of poor Michael putting on a show and no one turning up.
That's why I called Doug McKenney at WHRO the other day. He told me I needn't worry. The 500 seats set aside for WHRO members were selling fast. General public tickets were also selling well through the usual ticket outlets.
He went on to tell me that, despite what I had found when I told people about the show, it's actually pretty popular in the Hampton Roads area.
``More than 5,000 people listen to at least some part of the two-hour show every week in this area,'' he told me. That's not bad for a program that's on when most people are either hitting the beach, buying their groceries or cutting their lawns.
Armed with that knowledge I'm going to keep right on bragging about my Feldman tickets. Sooner or later I figure I'll run into at least one of those 5,000 listeners and maybe even start a Virginia Beach chapter of the Michael Feldman Fan Club.
Requirements for admission will be simple: a love of radio like it used to be and enough smarts to know the difference between a mechanic from Boston and a radio host from Madison, Wis. by CNB