BobLassiterAirchecks.com

Radio Host Hits Listener at Festival

Joshua L. Weinstein
LARGO - Controversial radio talk show host Bob Lassiter hit a 19-year-old listener with the back of his hand after the man screamed close to the microphone during a live broadcast at the Largo Renaissance Festival on Saturday, police said Sunday.

The man, Phillip Woodrow Mattox of St. Petersburg, told police that he received free tickets to the festival from the Lassiter show, broadcast on WFLA-AM, and that he screamed “because I have been a regular caller on the show for the last two years. I have been asked by the producers to scream.”

Mattox told police that Lassiter “seemed to recognize the scream,” and that after the scream, Lassiter “turned to his side and punched me in the mouth.”

Officials at WFLA-AM did not return telephone calls from the St. Petersburg Times on Sunday, but according to a statement that Lassiter, 43, made to police, “I was closing my radio show … when I heard a loud scream that appeared to be coming from my left rear directly into my ear.

“As I am the frequent target of threats of physical violence, I react first, ask questions later. I swung with my left arm, backhanding a young man before I ever made eye contact. He was stunned and left the area.

“I followed, approached, said I failed to find it funny, advised him that what he did was actually in violation of federal law and told him that I never wanted to see him again.”

According to Lassiter’s statement, Mattox “was just in the wrong place at the wrong time doing the wrong thing.”

Mattox gave police a somewhat different version of what happened after Lassiter hit him:

“He put down his microphone and ran ahead of where I was walking. He began poking his index finger in my chest, saying, ‘Don’t ever let me see you again. If I ever see you under different circumstances, I will beat the hell out of you.’”

Mattox’s shout made it onto the air.

“I happened to be in my car at the time he (Lassiter) was ending his live broadcast,” festival general manager Tim Ruedy said Sunday. “I heard a loud scream, so all I could say is I heard the loud scream over the air.”

Largo police are investigating the matter, police spokesman Dennis Crandall said Sunday.

IN ONE CITY, SUPPORT FOR GULF ACTION, BUT NO FERVENT PATRIOTISM

By William E. Schmidt, Special to the New York Times

With lots of American flags and a homemade sign that read ‘’Send a message to our troops in the Persian Gulf,'’ Lydia Munger and her friends set out on a mission this week, a campaign to flood soldiers and sailors in the Middle East with cheerful postcards from back home.With lots of American flags and a homemade sign that read ‘’Send a message to our troops in the Persian Gulf,'’ Lydia Munger and her friends set out on a mission this week, a campaign to flood soldiers and sailors in the Middle East with cheerful postcards from back home.

But after several hours of campaigning at O’Hare Airport on Wednesday, Lydia, who is 12 years old, and her mother, Mary, said they managed to persuade just 13 people to stop and scribble a greeting. ‘’People either are too busy to care, or they just aren’t very patriotic,'’ Mrs. Munger said.

In some parts of the country, the confrontation in the gulf has prompted outbursts of patriotic fervor: flag-waving demonstrations and huge yellow ribbons tied to trees. In Chicago, to judge by the calls to radio call-in shows and by television and newspaper interviews, people say they strongly support President Bush’s decision to send troops to the Middle East, but their mood has not translated into demonstrations of patriotism.

General Ambivalence

Despite all the troops dispatched to the Middle East, the thousands of reservists summoned to active duty and the way the story has dominated newspapers, television and radio, it just does not feel here as if America is going to war.

In private conversations, there is ambivalence and uncertainty. There is, among some, a mood of almost studied indifference - perhaps it is wishful thinking - that all of the hard language is just words.

‘’There’s not going to be any war,'’ said Ron Magnussen, a house painter who was drinking a glass of beer at the Jump Inn, a tavern on the city’s North Side. ‘’You know we’re not going to bomb them, since it would kill all the hostages. Both sides realize there is too much at stake to go to war.'’

For others, those with friends or families overseas, or reservists awaiting a phone call, the mood is tinged with apprehension.

‘’Did you ever notice that those who are the most gung-ho, who say we ought to go on in clean him out, are those who don’t have anything to lose?'’ asked Bill Jackson, a Chicago building manager and the father of a son whose Naval unit in San Diego is on alert for duty in the gulf.

‘People Are Uneasy’

On radio station WLS-AM, Bob Lassiter, the host of a call-in show, said he thinks a lot of people are genuinely afraid. ‘’People are uneasy, on edge,'’ he said. ‘’I hear it on the air, and I think you can feel it on the street.'’

Twice on Friday, he said, he had to cut people off when they began to spout obscenities, during heated discussions about the Middle East, the topic that is dominating all other conversation on his program. ‘’I'll usually go weeks at a time before I have to hit the dump button,'’ he said. ‘’I think a lot of people are just plain scared.'’

With others, there is a wariness about what it is exactly that America has gotten itself into. Even among those who say President Saddam Hussein of Iraq needs to be taught a lesson, the troop movements and rumors of war in a distant place inevitably evoke comparisons to Vietnam and the specter of a protracted, unresolved and divisive standoff.

‘’Let’s just not get stuck over there like we did in Vietnam,'’ said Barbara Krafcisin, who tends bar at an American Legion post on the North Side.

STUPID STUNTS OF THE YEAR
One last look back at the biggest jokers in Chicago’s broadcast deck during 1990:

MIKE KIRSCH

Gonzo reporter Mike Kirsch was thrown out of an Indianapolis hospital when he tried to photograph AIDS patient Ryan White on his death bed.

JOHN COLEMAN (who left to found the Weather Channel)

In his parting shot as weatherman, John Coleman sabotaged WMAQ-Channel 5’s switchboard by taping an “I’m out of here” message on the answering machine.

ED TYLL

Shrill Ed Tyll falsely announced that he had resigned as a talk host because of supposed death threats against him.

TERRY SAVAGE

“Financial analyst” Terry Savage took a day off from WBBM-Channel 2 to observe Rosh Hashanah and turned up live on a CNN talk show to plug her book.

ED VOLKMAN

Disc jockeys Ed Volkman and Joe Bohannon fabricated a call from a listener who claimed that she and her husband, a television station employee, were hypoing the ratings as a “Nielsen family.”

BOB LASSITER

Talk host Bob Lassiter angered Polish-American activists by airing an “offensive and insulting” joke about Polish women.

WLS radio recharges with high-voltage talk

By Katherine Seigenthaler
January 9, 1990

Remember the good old days at WLS-AM, when erstwhile morning “Superjock” Larry Lujack, furious over afternoon deejay Steve Dahl’s on-air jibes, walked into Dahl’s studio and threatened to ram his head against a wall?

Well, it seems the good times have returned to Chicago’s oldest station, folks, featuring a different cast of characters and a revised approach to vitriol.

Back in the mid-’80s, the contempt between Lujack and Dahl (now afternoon drive jock on WLUP-AM 1000) was palpable, as real as Dahl’s contract disputes with station management or the internal turmoil that was shaking the foundation of once-bedrock WLS (890).

Today, however, when razor-tongued mid-morning deejay Stacy Taylor slings carefully aimed arrows at late-afternoon host Bob Lassiter, or when the morning drive team of Don Wade and Roma (just Roma) rip each other apart and then devour their listeners, the station’s powers-that-be nod in conspiratorial delight.

The confrontations are part of WLS’ carefully-designed new format-talk radio with a one-two punch.

Six months ago, the station dumped its tired adult contemporary music format and introduced its audience to an eclectic lineup of Chicago-based and syndicated talk talent.

So far, the change has generated considerable attention, although no visible improvement in the all-important Arbitron ratings.

The latest quarterly ratings, released last week, gave WLS a 1.4 share of the Chicago listening public. That’s exactly the same share the station received last quarter, before the format change.

“I’m not topping trees, but I’m very pleased,” said station general manager Tom Tradup of the recently released figures. “We knew we’d lose some listeners at first, but we’ve obviously gained some or the ratings would have gone down. And I can guarantee you, more people will be listening tomorrow than are listening today.

“Sometime within the first year, we’re easily going to have a 2.0 share, and hopefully we’ll be well on our way past that.”

Though the anticipated 2.0 share is a far cry from the 4.0-and-better ratings WLS enjoyed when Lujack was in his heyday, it would certainly be an improvement.

But only time will tell whether a solid audience will stick with back-to-back hours of intense discussion on everything from abortion to luxury cruise lines.

The station calls it “high-powered, issue-oriented talk.”

Listeners bold enough to participate can expect to be verbally horsewhipped, more often than not. Those who choose to sit back and listen to the antics are likely to be alternately enraged, delighted or frustrated-but rarely bored.

Wade, of Wade and Roma (heard weekdays 5:30-9 a.m.), sounds as though his face is frozen in a scowl. He barks at rambling listeners: “Will you get to the point!” An irascible political conservative, he has been recommending lately that American jurisprudence give Gen. Manuel Noriega the same swift justice Romanians gave executed dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, and the day the U.S. invaded Panama, Wade crowed, “”Pineapple Face’ is down in flames!”

Roma is as liberal and sensitive as Wade is hard-edged. She is a yogi, and sometimes draws a heart near her name when signing autographs. She speaks in a soft, wavering voice but rarely backs down when confronting her partner, whom she likes to address alternately as a “hatemonger” and “fearmonger.”

Taylor (weekdays 9 a.m.-1 p.m.), a recent California transplant who has been known to refer to an elevated train as a trolley, is the most even-tempered of the station’s talent, but rapier-witted nonetheless. A social conservative, he particularly enjoys taking stabs at his more liberal colleague, Lassiter, whom he once said “rolls over like a spayed cocker spaniel” and pants with delight whenever someone criticizes the good ol’ U.S. of A.

Lassiter (weekdays 3-7 p.m.) is perhaps the most unpredictable of the local hosts. Calling himself a fiscal conservative and a social liberal, there is no subject too mundane for him to formulate a passionate opinion. He still gets calls from peeved Chicagoans who cannot forgive his diatribe on the lack of good pizza in this town.

“Some people like me, some people despise me, some people will never catch on to what I’m trying to do and that’s just fine by me,” he has said.

Filling in the gaps during the week are syndicated shows: talk phenomenon Rush Limbaugh (weekdays 1-3 p.m.), the arrogant arch-conservative who is fast becoming one of the most popular radio personalities in the U.S.; Sally Jessy Raphael (weekdays 7-9 p.m.), who specializes in warm, fuzzy advice; and Tom Snyder (weekdays 9 p.m.-midnight), whose pointedly opinionated New York-based talk show has aired on WLS since 1985.

Lean on minority voices

If it seems the talent lineup is long on white, male conservatives and short on liberal and minority points of view, Tradup said the station is trying to correct this.

“We’re far from where we’ll be in the near future in terms of airing women and minority opinions,” Tradup said.

WLS already has been highly criticized by the gay and lesbian community because of inflammatory comments Wade made in September, and Tradup is sensitive to charges that the station endorses racist attidudes.

Wade, in a conversation with Sandra Johnson of the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power insisted on the air that he was “a homophobe and proud of it,” and said gays with AIDS were criminals who should be quarantined.

“Don was severely reprimanded for his statements, and is very lucky he didn’t lose his job,” Tradup says. “He understands that we won’t tolerate that kind of thing.”

Tradup and program director Drew Hayes also are quick to clear up another charge, which is that the deejays are shock jocks.

“Our talent is more honest than most,” Hayes said, “but the intent is to tackle serious issues, not shock people just for the sake of it.

“Whereas, if Louis Farrakhan were a guest of Bob Collins, and he talked about the need to kill all white people, Collins would say, `How nice to have you on the show,’ ” Hayes said, refering to WGN-AM (720) host Bob Collins, the ratings king of morning drive.

In fact, Hayes recently created a minor furor at the station the week after Christmas when he pulled Rush Limbaugh’s show midway through because the host was railing against women “farding” in their cars.

“Farding” is an archaic term for applying cosmetics. Limbaugh later admitted he had intended that the word be mistaken for the slang term for flatulence, and said he was embarrassed by the incident.

“Calls from listeners were split down the middle as the whether we should have pulled the show,” Hayes said, “But we pulled it because it was not in good taste. It wasn’t obscene, but it was gutter slang used for the sole purpose of shocking the audience, and that’s not what we’re all about.”

Sharpening the cutting edge

What WLS jocks across the board tend to do is push and probe the corners of the envelope, and the station’s management is betting their style will become the standard for Chicago talk radio in the ’90s.

The 65-year-old station, recently named a “Legend” by the first annual Marconi Radio Awards last fall, has a reputation for operating on the cutting edge of radio.

Founded in 1924 by Sears, Roebuck and Co., it aired its famous “National Barndance” a year later, which ran for 35 years and was the precursor of Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry.

The station was one of the first to broadcast rock ‘n’ roll, and for years was one of Chicago’s leading popular music stations.

Now WLS is venturing further into unchartered waters, and, if history is on its side, Chicagoans might spend the next couple decades screaming at their car radios.

WLS-AM tries to talk its way out of radio `wasteland’
Robert Feder
The long nightmare is over at WLS-AM (890).

After years of negligent programming, bad management and embarrassing ratings, the 50,000-watt sleeping giant has reawakened as “Talkradio 890.” With most of its key players in place, the Capital Cities/ABC-owned station officially switched to an all-talk format on Aug. 23 - about two weeks ahead of its scheduled debut on Labor Day.

Geared to listeners between the ages of 35 and 64, the new WLS has little in common with “The Rock of Chicago,” as the station was known in its heyday - except for its call letters and the presence of strong personalities.

With Don Wade and Roma in the morning and Bob Lassiter in the afternoon, the station’s hyper-opinionated hosts often come off as too eager to ridicule or hang up on callers who disagree with them.

That may explain why WLS president and general manager Tom Tradup has been passing out

copies of “The WLS Creed,” written in 1938 by the station’s first boss, Prairie Farmer magazine publisher Burridge D. Butler.

“As long as it is our privilege to direct the destinies of WLS, we will hold sacred this trust that has been placed in our hands,” Butler wrote. “When you step up to the microphone, never forget this responsibility and that you are walking as a guest into all those homes beyond the microphone.”

Underscoring Butler’s message, Tradup said: “The ultimate goal of the station is to make everybody - the hosts and the callers - a little more civil. I think it’s important that we treat all of our listeners with respect.”

Tradup, 38, a native of Syracuse, N.Y., came to Chicago by way of programming positions in Dallas, Washington, New York and Kansas City, Mo. With carte blanche over hiring and about a $1 million promotion budget, he hopes to position WLS somewhere

between talk rivals WGN-AM (720) and WLUP-AM (1000).

“We’re an issue-oriented talk station designed to deal primarily with issues in the Chicago area,” he said. “WGN does a kind of `light information’ - like neighbors talking over the backyard fence. `The Loop’ just talks about goofy, irrelevant things. But we have our own approach to the issues.”

Arbitrends ratings released Wednesday show WLS mired in 22nd place with a 1.7 percent share of all listeners. Tradup said he was “absolutely confident” the station would draw higher than a 2.0 share by next year.

Advertising revenue may take a bit longer to catch up, however, considering that WLS lost more than $2 million last year alone. Tradup said the station is poised to become profitable by 1991.

“My job is to lead the troops out of the barren wasteland we found when we walked in the door and to help the station grow and evolve for the 1990s,” he said. “In just a few weeks, the morale here already has turned around. There’s a real excitement that something is happening here.

“Now the torch has been passed to me and to (program director) Drew Hayes to take WLS to its next level of excellence. We’re not finished by any means. We’re just getting started.”

George and I have received some very cool email from many of you about the Airchecks site. We’re glad to hear your feedback, and appreciate your compliments very much, but we have a small request: since we’ve switched to a blog format for this site, why not leave your thoughts here, as comments?

Don’t get us wrong, it’s great to hear from you. But what we’d like to accomplish with BobLassiterAirchecks.com, as well as providing a permanent and free library of Bob’s work, is to build a community of Lassiter fans and, perhaps, onetime associates. We’d like all of our readers, listeners, downloaders (and whatever else you get out of this site) to be a part of that community, and to participate in it by leaving your thoughts, feedback, comments, etc., here on the site.

Bob always wanted people to join in the conversation - here’s your chance!

“Give me Reagan. Bring him back.“

In the context of talk radio, who might you expect to be pining for the good old days of the conservative, often controversial Republican administration of Ronald Reagan? Tim Coles? Probably daily. Rush Limbaugh? Who’s he? David Gold? He’s in Dallas at last report.

Certainly not the so-tagged leader of those “liberal“ talk show hosts, Bob Lassiter. His constituency might be thrown by this, but it’s true: Lassiter misses Ronnie, probably as much as anyone does.

The passing of the Reagan era, for those on either side of (or atop) the political fence, has had something of a neutralizing effect on popular brands of talk radio, the essence of which is clash.

Kind and gentle just doesn’t cut it.

“The issue is apathy,“ Lassiter said in a recent interview. “No one has ever been accused of Bush-bashing, and if you did, there’s nobody to defend him, because nobody cares about him very much either way, his politics, his personality.“

The current menu of issues evidently doesn’t provoke, Lassiter observed of his current audience. “I don’t know what their problem is. We can get them whipped up on non-issues: the best pizza in town, abortion, gun control,“ he said. The trouble is, “we haven’t bombed anybody lately. Everyone has his own troubles.“

Even the great Lassiter. In mid-February he moved his podium to later afternoons after working the noon-3 shift to a point of dominance in the local talk market. The later time period does not produce the same sort of show, although it’s not precisely clear if that’s bad or good.

There is a wealth of information to be imparted during his 3-6 time slot: news, traffic, weather, more news, financial reports, more traffic, more weather and some sports, besides commercials, the lifeblood. Lassiter estimates he has lost almost 35 percent of his talk time to WFLA’s (970 AM) full-service afternoon-drive format.

“It’s a different show,“ he said. “It has to be less complicated because the audience is constantly coming in and out. There is no time to develop my kind of complex topic. It has to be gut-wrenching, easily understood . . . in four or five minutes.“

On the midday shows, “I fully expected listeners to be there for three hours. At 3, I know better.“

Perhaps subliminally, Lassiter is beginning to feel some heat, he related. “On air and off air, from people I run into, I’m hearing feedback that I’m starting to take seriously to the effect that these are not my hours. It’s starting to make me nervous. I haven’t had anyone come up to me and say, `Oh, I’m glad you’re on afternoon drive.’ I’ve had 20 people or more say the opposite.

“I’m not sure whether I might not have made a mistake.“

WFLA general manager David Macejko disagreed. “When Bob and (program director) Bob Schuman and I first discussed this change, I expressed strong reservations. I was wrong. I think Lassiter is doing a much better show (now).“

In a perfect world, Lassiter craves prime time, but that isn’t yet viable locally. “I’d go back to (nights) tonight if they’d pay me. It’s the ideal time to talk to people. People go out of their way to sit down and listen. But the station, even though you’ve got this incredible audience, can’t sell the time.“

Lassiter first made his mark locally with late afternoon-evening talk shows on the defunct WPLP (now WTKN). Recently, that station returned John Eastman to a nighttime program, the only live locally produced nighttime talk radio program carried in Tampa Bay.

Afternoon drive time, with its larger and more diverse audience, is probably Lassiter’s home unless drastic changes occur. “He’s indicated a willingness to move around,“ Macejko said. “But right now that’s not an option.“

Given free reign by management to do what he wants on the air, Lassiter intends to rely on his own ingenuity to gear up for the so-far colorless Bush era. “The monologue is a trademark, something I haven’t done a lot in the last six to nine months. It’s something I know no one else in this market can do, so I do them.“

In an apparent effort to sort out his audience, The Mouth of Tampa Bay, The Mad Dog, whatever, intends to redisplay that trademark much more often. The overall approach tone likely will be less frivolity and more issues. For one thing, Friday’s studio-audience format will be ditched.

With Ronnie lounging in retirement, Lassiter’s wit is all that’s left. Or is it right?

Tedd Webb becomes WFLA’s man of two hats when he moves into a permanent 12:30-3 p.m. talk slot Monday. Webb will also retain command of the 6-8 p.m. Sports Huddle . . . WTKN’s (570 AM) new morning host, Tom Bauerle, and afternoon talker, Jay Marvin, will conduct a special program Saturday from noon-2 p.m. from the St. Anthony’s Health and Fun Fest on the St. Petersburg waterfront . . . On the other side of the corridor from WFLA, WFLZ’s (93.3 FM) Jack Harris is expected to have a new co-host within two weeks, general manager David Macejko said without revealing details . . . WFLA has added Costas Coast to Coast, hosted by NBC-TV personality Bob Costas, from 9-11 p.m. Sundays. . . . WEND (760 AM) is negotiating with David Fowler to host a new morning drive show, 6-9 a.m. That new station is beginning to sound much like the old WPLP. Fowler, Tim Coles and the Sun Network’s Chuck Harder all are WPLP alumni.

(We’re betting that somebody, somewhere, has a copy of this broadcast on tape! Anyone have a lead? Email us, or leave a comment!!)

WINZ TO AIR TALK MANIA
Herald Staff

WINZ’s (940 AM) full- and part-time talk show hosts will take their turn today at sharing opinions and challenging each other on the issues as the station hosts Talk Mania. (WNWS-790 AM held its own Battle of the Talk Show Hosts Thursday.) WINZ’s marathon meeting of minds takes place from 10 a.m. today until about 5 a.m. Sunday.

Neil Rogers, Mike Spindell, and Bob Lassiter will host the first segment, to be broadcast live from Aventura Mall, 19501 Biscayne Blvd., Miami, from 10 a.m.-2 p.m. today. Rogers, Spindell and Lassiter will then rush back to the station to join Bill Calder, John Broward and Jon McQ, who will continue the Mania from 2 p.m. WINZ’s general manager Stan Cohen and news director David Hosley are also expected to join in.

As part of WINZ’s month-long Children’s Holiday Fund campaign, hosts will be urging listeners to pledge donations to the fund, which benefits various children’s charities. Their goal is $1,000 in pledges each hour.

PROFANITY LOSES JOB FOR TALK SHOW HOST
LINDA R. THORNTON Herald Staff WriterWINZ (940 AM) weekend talk show host Bob Lassiter crossed the fine line between controversy and profanity on his show Sunday and has been fired as a result.

In the midst of a heated debate with a caller who was berating Lassiter for his positions on subjects including gun control and the U.S. Constitution, Lassiter predicted his fate by saying, “I’m going to do something that could possibly cost me my job…you’re full of s—.”

Indeed, Lassiter was fired by WINZ management Monday.

“We maybe give some leeway when our hosts use words that might be objectionable, but not when they use one of the seven magic words. We can’t have that on our station,” said WINZ news director David Hosley.

In addition to his (former) 2-7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday weekend shift on WINZ, Lassiter hosts a weekday show at WPLP in Tampa.

The original Blog Lassiter was a Blogspot page, on which Bob allowed comments and discussed his time in radio, the current state of the business, and the news of the day. One of his first entries there was this discussion of his last days at WFLA and what happened to him after he left the station. This is from summertime 2005 - before Bob knew he was dying, but after he was housebound and had lost part of his foot.

The final days at WFLA were ugly – there is no other way to describe it.

There were numerous problems and “misunderstandings,” but the root of my anger was based in a $5.37 deduction from my paycheck, that took nine months to clarify.  I know it sounds silly, but it drove me nuts.

My contract was to expire on December 31, 1999.  My mood, and frankly my attitude on and off the air, coupled with the “vibes” I was getting from management, did not bode well for a renewal.  Finally, on the evening of December 2nd [actually it was December 1 - ed.], I unloaded – airing all the dirty laundry, in a classic Lassiter tirade.

The following morning, at approximately ten, I received a short, curt phone call from Sue telling me that my services were no longer required.  Twenty-nine years, three months, and two days after I first sat down behind a microphone, it was over.  Most men would have been devastated upon losing a six-figure, cushy job – I was relieved.

Every day for as long as I could remember, I had to wake up and find something outside of my personal life to care about – and care about it sufficiently to make an audience of strangers care about it.  I was tired of doing it – relieved to have the burden lifted.  I looked forward to just being the guy next-door, to just being a private citizen again.

I had always been one of those “never sick a day in his life” kind of people – but that all changed just four months into my exile.  Things started to go wrong, real wrong.  Within a year I would lose part of my right foot, have bladder cancer, have an artery in my leg replaced with a rubber hose, be diagnosed with heart failure, neuropathy, and a failing kidney.  Like I said, things began to go wrong – and than I began to lose my vision.  Diabetes was eating me alive.

Physically, I ain’t the same guy I was the last time we talked.  But my spirits are good, my outlook on life is positive, and I’ve learned to live with the hand I’ve been dealt.

For the most part, the past five years have been spent as I wanted – out of sight, out of mind.  I still live in Tampa, and it appears that will not change any time soon.  I lead a quiet, unassuming life – I rarely go out, I rarely talk to anyone.  I am a shy man, who never enjoyed or adapted to “celebrity”

Another letter to the editor from the same page as Mercia Tillman’s:

Editor:

Ms. James got it right! Bob Lassiter has the only “show” in town when it comes to talk radio.

Lassiter is a master of Socratic irony. He satirizes the mundane and gores sacred cows with gleeful intent. He holds up a mirror and his callers stand before it, warts and all!

Bob Lassiter is living proof that to be successful one needs friends; to be very successful one needs enemies. His creative mind elates his friends and baffles his enemies. In the process, everyone in the Tampa Bay area is listening!

CAROLYN DUNDAS, New Port Richey

Following is the Letter to the Editor whose author Bob calls and speaks to at the beginning of the “Religion in the Schools” clip. 

Editor: Re: “The mouth of Tampa Bay” by Sheryl James, Nov. 24.

I am a talk show addict and now that you have published the article on Bob Lassiter, who is the apex of all that is bad in talk radio, I would appreciate it if you would give the same courtesy to all that is good about talk radio and interview David Fowler or Tim Coles of WPLP.

I have listened from time to time to Mr. Lassiter, and I find that I do so for the same reason that I stare at snakes: He repels me, and yet fascinates me at the same time. Here is a person who appeals to a very special audience: the alcoholics, the drug users, Ku Klux Klan members, those who hate our country, our flag, who have no respect for the values that are so important to life. I have no respect for a man who has never done anything for our country and never will. This poor creature uses the microphone as a child would use a security blanket. I have never called him and never will.

WPLP, on the other hand, is a station that believes in the values that this country was founded on. It is a pleasure to listen to Mr. Fowler and Mr. Coles, both quite different in their approach, but intelligent, decent men who leave their audience feeling happy. Since there is at times a great need to talk to someone, it is a comfort to have that faceless friend on the other end of the line, someone who will not scream street epithets at the caller merely because his ratings are more important than the job he does.

I have no desire to see Mr. Lassiter taken off the air because the unfortunate people who are into abuse would have nowhere to vent their anger, but I do wish you would now give WPLP the same courtesy.

MERCIA V. TILLMAN, Seminole

The following is Bob’s self-written biography from his original day-trading blog, “The Big Cheese.” There’s a focus on futures trading, of course, but also the time-honored stories from Bob’s life. As always, he was a master storyteller.

Part I
Many years ago, my mentor said something that shocked me at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I observed, the truer it became. It goes like this: It’s not as important that I succeed, as it is that my friends fail.

Let me start at the beginning - it’s as good a place as any. I was born September 30, 1945. It was near the end of World War II. I was the first born son, the first grandchild on other side of the family. It was a time of hope, after so many years of economic hardship and war. My early childhood was all but a dream come true. My parents had been high school sweethearts, we lived in a modest but very comfortable home just outside of Philadelphia. And I was the center of attention - my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and all of their friends showered me with love, attention, and lots and lots of toys. After so many years of hard times, things were going to be different for all of the adults in my life, and I was the embellishment of the better times to come.

Eight years later, that all came to an end when my parents turned from being high school sweethearts to bitter enemies, and divorced. An ugly child custody battle ensued, ending with an eight year old child sitting on a witness stand, and being asked by a judge to choose between my mother or my father. I chose my mom - my dad never forgave me for it. Never.

The modest but comfortable home turned into a two-room, shared bath apartment. One side of the family all but disappeared from my life, the other side now had lots of children of their own - I was not to be the center of attention for a long time to come.

We�ll skip the details of the following years - with but one exception.

Unlike many people, I can identify turning points in my life to the exact moment in time that they occurred. The first such “turning point” came on a chilly Spring morning in 1958. It was the second Saturday in April, it was overcast, and windy, but it was a day that almost every boy in my town had been looking forward to for months. It was Little League tryout day.

I was 12 years old that year, fat, and very unathletic. But I loved baseball, and it was my last year of eligibility. I wanted nothing more than to be part of a team - to play baseball on a real field, with real uniforms, and real �fans� in the stands cheering us on. My hometown league was divided into two divisions - Majors and Minors. And on this particular morning the hopefuls were to be given a test, a simple test to let the “coaches” decide which division a boy would be assigned to play in. The test was nothing more than one of the men throwing a ball high into the air, and seeing how the would be player handled the simulated “pop-fly.” Each boy had two chances. Both times as the ball sailed high into the air, I lost sight of it in the overcast sky, and the ball dropped to the ground.

They assigned me to a Minor League team - Colls Camera, coached by Mr. Simpson. I was disappointed that I had not made the Majors, but not much. I was going to be part of the team, and that’s all that really mattered.

Fat kids in Little League almost always end up being the catcher, and I was no exception. Every night, after supper, we had a practice session. I was in my glory - it was everything I had ever dreamed it would be. I had never participated in any organized sport before, and to be honest, my skill level left much to be desired.

At long last the season was to begin - there was one final practice, and on that night Mr. Simpson would hand out our uniforms and hats. The anticipation was more than a boy could handle, so I showed up even earlier then usual. At long last Mr. Simpson showed up, and we could see the big cardboard boxes in the back of his station wagon - boxes holding the coveted uniforms and hats. The symbols that proved to all the world that a boy, this boy, belonged to the team.

But there was something else in Mr, Simpson’s vehicle that night - it was a young boy, about twelve years old, a stranger none of us had ever seen before. Mr. Simpson got out, but the stranger remained behind. Mr. Simpson called me aside - no doubt for a special strategy meeting, right? Wrong. He told me that I just wasn’t really good enough to play, and that he had found this other kid who was going to replace me. He also asked that I leave the practice field, so as not to be a distraction.

I did as he asked, got on my bike, and with the sounds of my former team mates laughing and gathering around Mr. Simpson to get their uniforms and hats, I began the trip back home. It was during the long lonely ride - the long lonely bitter ride home, filled with shame and despair that I vowed to never again be a “team player.” Life had taught me a lesson, and the events that had transpired during the Spring of 1958 changed me forever. That was more then 45 years ago, but I can remember that night as though it just happened. The memories are no less bitter, no less painful…

Part II
Growing up can be awkward and embarrassing - sometimes filled with moments and events a man would just as soon keep to himself. And that’s what I shall do - keep them to myself, keep them private.

Instead, I would rather move along to the times that are filled with more triumphs - the good times. After stumbling along, accomplishing little or nothing in life - uneventful years, unremarkable years � we come to the early 70’s. September 1, 1970 to be precise. It was on that day that my life would change forever - again -and this time for the better.

It was on that day that I entered into what you might call the world of “show business.” How or why is not important. The exact particulars will remain confidential. But for the next 29 years, 3 months, and 2 days - until December 2, 1999 - I could do no wrong. At least professionally. Yes, there were personal disasters - a divorce that almost sent me over the edge chief among them, and other things that I do not care to tell you about. But professionally, it was magic.

I met people, went places, and did things that mere mortals can only dream about. And for the last 15 years of that journey I made money - lots and lots of money. How much? My annual take was a multiple of what most people would consider a dream income - that’s how much.

For the most part, we keep score, and measure success in this country by how much money we earn. Right or wrong, it’s the way it is done.

My score was high - probably higher than yours. I had a degree of freedom, independence, and security most people will never experience. After more years than I care to acknowledge, once again I was the center of attention, and surrounded with toys - lots and lots of toys - just like when I was a kid.

Do you know what that feels like? Well let me tell you - it feels good, real good.

But unlike when I was a kid, this time there was no family to shower me with affection. There were no teammates, and there were very few friends. Money and a degree of celebrity wreck havoc in one’s life - they make you leery of strangers and associates alike. Privacy becomes an obsession. Arrogance and mistrust become your companions.

Along the way, people - people who dream of having what you have, being who and what you are - begin to treat you differently. They begin to kiss your ass, and you begin to expect it, to demand it. It’s not pretty, but it’s the way it is. You see what’s happening, and it fills you with contempt for the very people who have lifted you out from under the yoke of everyday life. But you dare not show the contempt, so you “pretend” to like the very folks you have come to hate - you begin living a lie. So you withdraw even further.

But what the hell, it’s a living, and it sure beats driving a truck. So you do what you have to do. And before you realize it, it becomes second nature. You put it on auto-pilot.

That’s the way my life was for 29 years, 3 months, and 2 days.

It was during this time that I discovered trading - the perfect outlet for a recluse.

Part III
It all began when I read an article in Playboy Magazine. It talked of how one could have turned $1,500 into $6,000,000 during a recent run up in Gold. Of course it was “theoretical”, requiring perfect timing, wild and crazy pyramiding of profits, etc. But it caught my attention - good God, Six-Million Dollars was a lot of money in those days! (smile)

I thought about it, and thought about it some more. I started reading books and articles, and soon was obsessed. I bought an Apple II computer, an expensive software package called CompuTrac - spending a little over five-thousand bucks, and opened an account with a Futures broker in Chicago. My first trade was in December Wheat. I made $800 in about ten minutes, and I was hooked.

Not only had I found something that absolutely fascinated me, but I had also discovered the preverbal money pit.

My losses were not large - just constant. Every month or two I�d write another check, and ship it off to Chicago. This went on for years. I would lose ten-grand, twenty-grand, as much as fifty large a year. All the while spending thousands more on data, books, courses, software, and seminars. It was my hobby, I could afford it, I didn’t care.

Like almost every other poor lost soul, I experimented with technical analysis - traditional and non-traditional. I went from Gann to astrology - you name it, I looked at it. All the while the losses continued. But I didn’t care, I loved the game, and besides, I knew, I just knew deep down in my heart of heart’s that I would find the answer. This went on for almost 15 years.

And you know what? I found it! I fucking found my answer - writing options on Bond Futures. It was a license to print money I tell you. And I ain’t shitting you. The problem is that a trade could take as much as six weeks to play out, and the profits were small when compared to the capital it took to trade. But I had turned the corner. All the work, all the effort, all the agony was beginning to pay off. All the nights spent alone at my desk, while my wife sat in the living room by herself. All the weekends spent reading, studying, plotting and planning - instead of doing things together were finally paying off.

And so it went for about a year. This brings us to the bull market in technology. I hate equities - I don’t know why, I just do. I guess it’s because I am not an investor - I’m a trader - and the stock market was for geeks. But gee, I kept hearing about all the action, and it starts to interest me.

Long story short. I closed my Bond account, and put the money with an on-line broker in January 2000.

A little over a month after that magical professional life had come to a sudden and unexpected halt. A little over a month after my gravy train had left the station.

But not to worry. Don’t you understand, I had finally learned how to trade, and besides, I had just been on a 29-plus year ride that proved I could do no wrong. Don’t you understand that?

Part IV
It was the morning of December 3, 1999 - about ten in the morning that I got an unexpected call, an unpleasant unexpected call. The company I had helped put on the map, dumped me. No warning. Just a cold, curt, impersonal phone call, and it was over. Period. End of story.

I guess most men would have been devastated. You can believe this or not, but I was relieved. No more playing games. No more living a lie. It was over, and it didn’t bother me in the least.

I had money in the bank, a big house, a substantial trading account, a wife who loved and supported me � and what�s more important, I had learned how to trade.

During the first five months of 2000, I made more than three times trading stocks than I had made the entire year before trading Bonds. OK, so not even close to what I had been making in my “job�, but it was only a matter of time. Right?

It was then that my world turned upside down.

Ten years before, I had been diagnosed with Diabetes. I suffered no real symptoms, and never took it seriously. That was a mistake. In an incredibly brief period of time, the disease began to eat me alive. From my vision to my heart, to my nervous system, to my circulation - the man who had “never been sick a day in his life”, was now very, very sick.

Who can say if it was my health, my mental state, or the market itself, but the profits turned to losses. Maybe it was all the above. Maybe I had just been lucky. Maybe I had just been kidding myself.

Day after day, week after week, month after month - I lost. The erosion in my trading account was hard to deal with. I stopped mentioning the results to my wife. I just sat here in utter denial - as the money slowly, then rapidly disappeared.

And then there was the bad luck. I had put on 1,000 shares of QCOM - the doorbell rang. I was gone for no more then five minutes. I came back to find myself down $4,000.00. Of course I did want any good, disciplined trader would do - I immediately closed it out. And then proceeded into a frenzy of revenge trading, losing almost another six-grand - all before lunch. Or the day I was long ATHM with a $200 profit on 1,000 shares at the close. I held overnight. A doctor’s appointment kept me away from the open. When I got home, it was 8 points against me.

A lot of things like that happened. And there were a lot of mistakes. And there were several downright stupid blowout days. But it all ended up the same - a continual drain on my account.

Once I didn’t care about the losses. After all, there was more money where that came from - but things were different now. I had no reasonable expectation of climbing back on the gravy train. I was no longer young with my entire life in front of me. This was no longer a hobby, a game. This was, if you’ll pardon the expression, what I now did for a living.

That brings us to the end of 2001, I dreaded telling my wife how much I had lost that year. So I did what any trader in my shoes would have done - I filed for an extension with the IRS - just to keep from telling that beautiful, wonderful woman who had so much faith in me, who believed in me, just how much of a loser I really was. Just to put it off for a few more months.

The year had shown a beginning balance of $509,244.38, the ending figure was $231,815.91.

Part V
I wish I could tell you that things have gone much better since then - but I can’t. I guess you could say that old habits die hard. Or maybe it would be appropriate to drag out the ever popular saying: A fool and his money are soon parted.

So is all of this true? What difference does it make - to you. And if it is true, why would a man bare his soul like this? The answer to that is - because I can.

We all have unique abilities, call them gifts if you will, that set us apart. My “gift” is the ability to slash my stomach open, rip out my guts, and lay them on the table. You are free to sort through them - take what pleases you, discard the rest.

For years I made my living by making people laugh, and then making them cry. I could make them mad as hell, and sometimes I could make them think - really think.

So what do you think - I mean about the story I just told? But before you answer, let’s go back to the beginning, to that phrase that goes: “It’s not as important that I succeed as it is that my friends fail.” Can you now understand just how much truth there is in it?

After only 15 months as an evening talk show host, Catherine Johns has been promoted to the afternoon-drive spotlight at WLS-AM (890).

Starting today, she will share her warmth, wit and straightforward style from 4 to 7 p.m. weekdays on “Talkradio 890.” Johns, 38, a Chicago native and 12-year veteran of WLS, made the transition to talk host after a decade as a news anchor and second banana to top jocks Larry Lujack and Fred Winston.

She replaces Bob Lassiter, who was fired after his show ended on Friday. Lassiter and his WLS bosses have been at loggerheads over his abrasive manner since he joined the station from WFLA-AM in Tampa, Fla., in August, 1989. Lackluster ratings didn’t help.

“I think there are many markets where Bob’s act would play - but this isn’t one of them,” said WLS general manager Tom Tradup. “We wish him well.”

Although the exact timing of his departure may have come as a surprise, Lassiter knew his days were numbered. Twice in recent weeks, he flatly predicted in conversations that the station would not pick up his six-figure contract option by Dec. 23.

NOTE: This article isn’t about Bob Lassiter; it’s the news article about Cox Broadcasting that inspired his great “Radio for One” show on the same day that it was published.

WFNS-AM Drops Sports Format

by ERNEST HOOPER and ERIK ERLENDSSON

Officials at Cox Broadcasting, which recently purchased WFNS-AM 910, dismissed the station’s 15 employees Wednesday night and said they were changing the sports-talk format that has been a part of the Tampa Bay airwaves since 1990.

At 8 p.m. Wednesday, WFNS began broadcasting the greatest hits of the ’70s from a Cox sister station.

WSUN-AM 620, another sister station, continued to broadcast a New York Yankees game Wednesday, but it too will undergo changes.

WFNS and WSUN operated under a joint agreement for more than a year, simulcasting Tampa Bay Lightning broadcasts. On Nov. 28, WSUN became the market’s third sports-talk station and, along with WFNS, simulcast the popular Scot Brantley-Steve Duemig afternoon show.

Last month, Cox exercised an option in its agreement to buy WFNS from Brent Harmon, then informed staff members in a meeting Wednesday of the format change. WSUN will continue to broadcast Yankees and Lightning games this season, but its status as a sports-talk station is uncertain.

Among those looking for new jobs this morning are several on-air personalities, including Brantley, Duemig, Todd Wright, Paul Porter and Jim “J.L.” Lighthall.

Todd Leiser, general manager of Cox Broadcasting’s WSUN, WWRM-FM 94.9 and WCOF-FM 107.3, said the decision was not talent-based.

“I don’t expect the loyal sports fans to understand our decision, and I feel bad about that because they are very passionate about sports and the radio stations, and if I was a listener I would be disappointed,” Leiser said. “But there is a business to run, and this is why we made the decision.”

WSUN will continue to broadcast the Ron & Ron Show, but the station’s commitment to ESPN Radio and The Fabulous Sports Babe Show is undetermined.

Brantley was one of the first to work for WFNS, the first station in the state to have a pure sports-talk format. He was philosophical about the decision.

“All things happen for a reason, and when one door shuts another opens,” Brantley said. “We always talk about teams dealing with adversity and asking are they going to stick their heads in the sand or are they going to pull themselves up. That’s what I’m hoping to do, go forward and make something happen.”

Duemig, a former touring golf pro, described the decision as a dagger in his heart. “I played on the golf tour and I loved that,” he said, “but this was the one job I loved getting up to do every day.”

This actually is the second dismissal Wright has had to endure. Before starting his second stint at WFNS in 1994, he was let go by an Orlando radio station after an ownership change.

“I’m disappointed I’m not going to be able to do what I’m so passionate about tomorrow morning and afternoon, but I remain confident that this is not the end of my career,” Wright said. “I’ll just have to add another line to my resume.”

Depending on what happens with WSUN, WZTM-AM 820 may become the market’s only sports-talk radio station. WZTM general manager Drew Rashbaum said it would be premature to gauge the impact of Cox’s decision, or consider the possibility of hiring any former WFNS employees.