He just got off the London Tube when he heard faint guitar strains. He turned around the corner and noticed a subway entertainer strumming his guitar, his opened guitar case on the floor containing some coins and bills.
He approached the guitarist, the continuing strains warming up his face. He bowed his head, furrowed his eyes, and started to rifle through his file box of memories. After an instant, he jerked his head up!
“Spanish Dance No. 5!” he yelled, startling the Londoners passing by.
As the guitarist plucked tingling high notes and deep, vibrating low notes, he was lulled to thinking about an incident one lazy afternoon.
“Hey! You want to audition?” he asked his classmate as they were passing by the entrance to the University radio station.
“For what?”
“Radio announcer!”
“Hmm…maybe.”
“Let’s go!” he insisted. “There’s no harm in trying. Well, a little embarrassing maybe, but beyond that, it will be fun!”
He auditioned; his classmate got cold feet.
“Now, this is the station’s theme song,” the manager said, playing Enrique Granados’ Spanish Dance, No. 5 as it underscored the station identification. “I will have you host the morning and afternoon programs and then eventually the ones in the evening.”
“Thank you!” he said with a big grin, shaking his head in disbelief.
The week was full of excitement, spreading the good news with family, classmates, and friends. He looked forward to hosting programs, choosing music, preparing music intros, and sorting requests. Unfortunately, he picked up a bad habit – smoking! He felt that smoking menthol filter-tip cigarettes helped modulate his voice. He also looked forward to catching a cold, believing that the inflamed and swollen vocal cords enhanced his bedroom voice.
He was closely associated with the station’s request program, “Devoted To You”, his fan base consisting of romantic music-loving local residents, students at the nearby School of Nursing, and a classmate whose requests were always on yellow stationery.
“The serious countenance of this announcer befits the romantic program, Devoted To You” in the station’s brochure was a reflection of his breathy and intimate style. But, much to his embarrassment, it also became a running tease by classmates and faculty alike.
“Deeeevoooooted tooooo yoooooou,” a Spanish priest often started his Liberal Arts classes with his mimicry to the amusement of his classmates.
Yes, gaffes involving a hot mic, a wrong tune, and a wrong turntable speed occurred, but all in all, it was smooth sailing over the air until one sweltering mid-noon in his graduation year.
“Here!” yelled the station manager, shoving a box of complimentary 45 rpm records at his feet while he was entering the announcer’s booth. “You can have them all!”
“Huh?” He turned around to respond. “What did I do?”
“You rummaged through this box, wanting to keep some, didn’t you?”
“No…I didn’t,” his voice cracking a bit.
“Well…,” the manager’s voice trailed as he closed the door to the announcer’s booth.
He was able to complete hosting the assigned program despite deep thoughts about the incident. Innocent of such an accusation, he decided against confrontation, dismissing it as fruitless. He submitted a letter of resignation that same day.
“What now?” he asked himself. “Perhaps the timing is just right. You are in your last semester with graduation coming soon. Why don’t you concentrate on that instead?”
He did just that, although on a whim, he decided to audition at 2 of the city’s radio stations. He was asked by one of them to start an early morning program featuring school news and music but he chickened out.
Graduation day came; he was in black cap and gown, his mother dressed to the nines.
As he was waiting to be called up to the stage for the academic award presentation, a familiar tune filled the air – Spanish Dance No. 5! He strained to look as to what prompted it.
Approaching the stage was a graduating student radio announcer!
“Wow! Such a distinction!” he exclaimed. “Will it be played also when I am called?” he wondered.
Just as he suspected, not one single note of Spanish No. 5 was played when his mom placed a medal around his neck and when he was handed his diploma.
Nonetheless, he wasn’t upset. He didn’t allow the omissions to dampen his celebratory mood. In fact, he was all smiles when he passed by the graduation ceremony emcee – the radio station manager himself.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, the 2nd and last time he walked by him.
He was grateful! Had it not been for that spur-of-the-moment impulse one lazy afternoon, he would not have enjoyed the benefits:
*Full tuition scholarship
*Thrill as a radio announcer
*Access to trove of music records
*Improved enunciation and articulation
*Polished quality of voice
*Loyalty of fans
Of significance was the prospect of future success. A loyal “Devoted to You” fan, once a student at the School of Nursing, became a full-time nurse at a United States hospital which had a School of Medical Technology training foreign students. Her information about the school led to his acceptance and, eventually, a professional career in the United States.
It was decades ago when he was last seen with 45 rpm and LP records in the announcer’s booth, the familiar tunes now being rarely played. But when one was heard, he always felt a lump in his throat.
“Ah! I once played that over the air,” he would muse, raising his head as he inhaled, holding on to the associated memories a little longer.
He placed several quids on the pile of coins and bills in the opened case, the guitarist smiling as he repositioned his guitar.
They closed their eyes and nodded in unison.
