When I was growing up I used to listen to a radio station in Toronto called 680, which was basically a top 40 station that included not only the most cheesiest songs of the day ( can you say New Kids on the Block and old school Maria?)
In my small town we never really got great reception so I can distinctly remember straining through the crackles just to hear 'the best' DJs - being 'the best' because I was like 16 and I wouldn't listen to like anything that wasn't like the best like c'mon are you crazy or what? du--huh...
One of the DJs' names was Tarzan Dan. If you're from around Toronto - or any small hick town that might have gotten the least bit reception - you may have heard of him.
I can't really remember much of his schtick when I was younger, I just remember his name, remember that EVERYONE loved him and that someday, if I could (sing it with me now) make it there in the big T. Dot, then I would have as fabulous life as he did. Or at least as fabulous as all the screaming girls that would call in to win tickets or to even meet the famous man himself.
During my last year of university, a new station, KISS92 FM, came out with guess who?
TARZAN DAN!!!
It was so poetic back then - here I was, getting ready to take on the world! And here he was, still making young girls dreams come true by sending them off to the concert of their dreams - by this stage it was now the Backstreet Boys.
There was a contest where you could register your phone number, if they called you, you had so say:
"Kiss 92FM plays today's hit music now give me my money"
And if you said, 'hello' or 'er' or something other than the catchy marketing slogan there was no money for you.
Everyone LOVED it if Tarzan Dan was the DJ on duty when they won.
And everyone also loved to hear Tarzan Dan and his morning show, especially on Fridays, when he would howl a the top of his lungs, like a monkey in the jungle:
'OOOOOOOOOOOOOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S FRIIIIIIIIIIIDAYYYYYYYYYY'
And you knew the weekend has landed.
So now, without fail, every Friday morning, I continue the TD's mantra, perhaps not quite as loud and long but it's what I hear in my head that counts.
***********
I leave you with a funny post by a very funny lady, as I found it so inspiring today. And she's just a riot. Is it bad that I picture myself doing this?
**********
I also leave you with a quick link to one of my newest blog buddies. She's much better at the pics then I am so if you want to actually SEE what I've been talking about, check her out.
In my small town we never really got great reception so I can distinctly remember straining through the crackles just to hear 'the best' DJs - being 'the best' because I was like 16 and I wouldn't listen to like anything that wasn't like the best like c'mon are you crazy or what? du--huh...
One of the DJs' names was Tarzan Dan. If you're from around Toronto - or any small hick town that might have gotten the least bit reception - you may have heard of him.
I can't really remember much of his schtick when I was younger, I just remember his name, remember that EVERYONE loved him and that someday, if I could (sing it with me now) make it there in the big T. Dot, then I would have as fabulous life as he did. Or at least as fabulous as all the screaming girls that would call in to win tickets or to even meet the famous man himself.
During my last year of university, a new station, KISS92 FM, came out with guess who?
TARZAN DAN!!!
It was so poetic back then - here I was, getting ready to take on the world! And here he was, still making young girls dreams come true by sending them off to the concert of their dreams - by this stage it was now the Backstreet Boys.
There was a contest where you could register your phone number, if they called you, you had so say:
"Kiss 92FM plays today's hit music now give me my money"
And if you said, 'hello' or 'er' or something other than the catchy marketing slogan there was no money for you.
Everyone LOVED it if Tarzan Dan was the DJ on duty when they won.
And everyone also loved to hear Tarzan Dan and his morning show, especially on Fridays, when he would howl a the top of his lungs, like a monkey in the jungle:
'OOOOOOOOOOOOOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S FRIIIIIIIIIIIDAYYYYYYYYYY'
And you knew the weekend has landed.
So now, without fail, every Friday morning, I continue the TD's mantra, perhaps not quite as loud and long but it's what I hear in my head that counts.
***********
I leave you with a funny post by a very funny lady, as I found it so inspiring today. And she's just a riot. Is it bad that I picture myself doing this?
**********
I also leave you with a quick link to one of my newest blog buddies. She's much better at the pics then I am so if you want to actually SEE what I've been talking about, check her out.
Comments
my e-mail is h.gilroy@utornto.ca