#TBT - Story of the day (1997): Wrote about one of my first radio experiences many years ago for a country music blog post and thought I would share. Keith Urban Makes Memories WITH Me: “Me? Really? This is gonna be one of the coolest things EVER,” I thought to myself after my boss told me what I got to do that day. I guess through all my excitement I should have listened to his full instructions. It was 1997. As a senior in college I had recently got an internship at my hometown radio station 96KX (as it was called then). I wasn’t getting paid yet, but I was gaining experience touching all the computers, setting up equipment, meeting real radio professionals and on occasion…meeting artists that would make their way through our quaint little radio building on Antelope Creek. As a lifelong country music fan and self-taught guitar player…if there was a heaven on earth…this was it for me. It was one particular Thursday I stopped in the station between classes (as I did on a pretty consistent basis) just to see if my boss needed anything done that day. “We’re good for today…but I need your help tomorrow afternoon if you’re free,” he said. “Sure, no class tomorrow and I’m off all afternoon…whatcha need?” “We have a show at Guitars & Cadillacs tomorrow night with this new act called The Ranch. I need ya to take the POINT 104 van and go pick them up at the airport and take them to their hotel. They’re staying at The Villager right next to Guitars… so shouldn’t be any problems….” my boss instructed. He continued…but his voice trailed off because the excitement in my mind had taken over. “You got it…see ya tomorrow,” I said as I left. All the while thinking to myself : “Me? Really? This is gonna be one of the coolest things EVER.” Friday afternoon came quite fast, but being pre-9/11, it didn’t take too long to pick your party up at the airport. And quite frankly, this is the LINCOLN airport. If you can’t find your traveler in there…you might as well stay with Greyhound. But I digress. Grabbed the POINT 104 mini-van and got to the airport in plenty time, pulled up in front of the doors. I had never met members of The Ranch (though I think I did grab one of their cd’s before I left…just to know who I was looking for). Headed inside, no sign or anything saying it was me they were looking for. I just waited for what I expected to be “rockstars” walking down the stairs. Minutes past by, until finally, I noticed what I thought to be one of the guys I saw on the cd. “Hi, I’m Ritch with the radio station” I said extending my hand. “Hey mate, keith urban. Nice to meet ya Ritch.” He said Following close behind, were the other two members of The Ranch: Jerry Flowers, Peter Clarke and their tour manager at the time. After the formal hellos, we headed to the baggage area to grab their gear. And when I say gear I don’t mean a few bags of rockstar clothes…I mean music GEAR. Two luggage carts full of guitars, drum kit, bass guitars, monitors and of course a few bags of rockstar clothes. As the group and I loaded up the last of the gear….I quickly began to sweat and shake like I had been shot with a taser. I remembered I had forgotten to listen to all of my bosss instructions. Through my excitement to help out…I forgot the boss had said “Before you go to the airport, make sure to take out the THIRD seat of the van because you won’t have room for all their gear with it in there.” Standing at baggage claim….I froze. What the hell was I gonna do now? We had all the gear loaded up, ready to head to the van. A van that was NOT going to fit me, four grown men and an entire tour bus amount of band gear. Quickly, as we walked, I tried to make small talk. “Great to have you guys in town. Show should be great tonight” as I helped push the carts to the “van of career doom” parked at the curb. Finally, we made it outside to the van. What WAS a beautiful sunny fall Friday afternoon quickly drew colder as I opened the back hatch of the van with the band and manager waiting to load up. “What the hell is this?” the manager growled. “ Yeah…um..I kinda forgot to take the third seat out. Sorry bout that but I’m sure we can get it all to fit,” I said nervously. For the next 10 minutes, the disgruntled group and I painstakingly played Tetris inside the POINT 104 van. Amp here….bag there. After stacking guitars one way…we realized we ran out of space…so the remaining guitar cases had to be set the long way. Finally….loaded up, we were ready to make the 20 minute drive across town to The Villager so the rockstars could get in a rockstar snack and rockstar nap before the rockstar show that night. I continued to talk as we drove, but as you can imagine…no one was talking to me. So there we were with our own thoughts: Tour manager riding shotgun, Peter Clarke directly behind me, keith urban in the middle and Jerry Flowers on the opposite end. Difficult ride for those three, as they had to crouch down, and keep their head sideways underneath the ceiling of guitar cases that hung over their heads (like my future radio aspirations did that day). Though the drive seemed as if it took hours, we made it to The Villager within 25 minutes. Once there, again no one talking, we pulled up to the room and unloaded the gear. In silence I got back in the van and said “See ya at the show tonight guys,” as the motel door slammed….leaving me outside it what now seemed like an even colder afternoon. Friday evening. Showered up, clothes pressed, it was finally time: Showtime!! Guitars & Cadillacs always had a pretty decent crowd on Friday nights, and tonight seemed to be another stellar evening with The Ranch making its debut in town. Their single “Walk In The Country” was steadily climbing the charts. The whole radio station gang were there (including my boss). I was finally able to feel like part of “the radio crew” for a bit (even as an unpaid peon intern). “So how’d it go today?” boss asked over the scream of the opening band. “Not too bad,” I laughed nervously… “They weren’t too happy with me though.” Taking a drag of his cigarette, boss says “Lemme guess…you forgot to take the third seat out didn’t ya?” As I watched my radio career end before it had ever even started I laughed and say “Yup…but we got it all in and made it work.” “Well, get it figured out, because I need you to pick ‘em up at 5 tomorrow morning and take them back to the airport for their 6:30 flight”. “Sweet!!” (I thought to myself). I lived to see another day in radio. The only downside was that I couldn’t stay for the entire show since I had to get up so early, but I’d get over it. About 10:15pm, as the band tuned and warmed up, I saw the tour manager and asked if I could hop up on stage and get the guys to sign my cd. Reluctantly, he waved me up and I made my rounds to all three of the guys for their autographs. Again, not a word spoken…just a quick signature and smile. “Have a good show guys, I’ll see ya in the morning.” Home, exhausted but alive with excitement from the days events, I tell my friends and roommate about my first big radio task that I messed up but survived. We laughed over a couple beers until it was time for me to lay down (afterall I had to be up by 4, and AT the motel by 5 to pick up my new friends that wanted nothing to do with me). BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP the alarm clock buzzed. Saturday morning, 4AM. At 22 years old, most kids my age were just going to bed…here I was getting up to go take four guys that hate me to the airport. I just kept telling myself “You can sleep in two hours…you can sleep in two hours.” With no traffic that early in the morning, I made it to The Villager in less than about 10 minutes. I was early…about a half hour early, but to my surprise the guys were all ready sitting outside their motel room on their equipment, smoking cigarettes waiting on their intern-wagon to the airport. “Morning guys…little early huh?” I laugh. Uttering not a word, the foursome stood up and began walking to the van as I open the backhatch, to discover I had once again forgot to take out the death of me….the third seat. With a glare from the tour manager, we once again began playing van Tetris to fit all the gear for the trip. Seating arrangements? Same as 14 hours prior. Van Conversation? Same as 14 hours prior. Overall mood of my shuttled guests?….SAME as 14 hours prior. At this point, I can’t get to the airport fast enough. Drop them off, take the POINT 104 van back to work, go home, and sleep like the last day and a half never happened. Making it to the airport in no time, I pulled the van up to the same door I had met them at the day prior. Once stopped, the road manager exits (slamming the door) and grabbing two luggage carts resting against the building. Jerry, Peter, keith and I get out of the van and proceed to unload all the gear that had been my nemesis. It was obvious they wanted to get inside as quick as possible. With one cart loaded, the tour manager and Jerry Flowers each grab an end of the handle and roll it inside without as much as an F* off to me. Soon after, with the last cart loaded, Peter and keith each follow the lead, grabbing a part of the cart handle (as not to let anything fall off) and began walking inside the airport. I couldn’t bring myself to shut the van door. With both hands hanging on it for dear life, there I stood. Speechless, hanging my head in disgust (I was even upset at myself). What a great first radio station project. What a great first IMPRESSION I made working with guys I idolized, country musicians from Nashville. I was devastated. There I stood, staring at an oil spill in the cement, wishing it was a black hole that I could jump in and get lost for awhile. Id head anywhere…anywhere but there. What was only seconds felt like hours….and then (as if awaken from a trance), staring down I see a hand shoot in my line of sight. The hand was holding a folded $20 bill. “Here ya go mate,” the voice softly said. As if snapped out of a trance I look to my right to see keith standing right next to me, while everyone else had jetted inside to get on a plane. I didn’t even know what to say…what to do. How could he after the hell I had put them through? Sheepishly taking the $20, I stare at keith, almost in tears, only to hear him laugh, pat me on the back and say “Don’t worry about it Ritch. It wasn’t bad at all. Hope to see ya soon mate.” As I stood silent, I watched keith urban walk through the automated doors of the Lincoln Airport, off to where ever his next gig would be. And I remember looking at that $20 bill in my hand, wanting to cry, but only able to mutter one random thought in my head: That morning, I hauled around two rockstars, a bitter tour manager and one of the most sincere, genuine human beings I have ever met. ***Update, a few years back I brought this story up to KU and he remembered the events almost to a T...even joking Can I borrow my $20 back? Amazing human being***
Posted on: Thu, 07 Aug 2014 14:21:08 +0000
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