Static on Purpose

“Why do you work for a non-rated radio station?” someone asked me not long ago, their eyebrows doing a little dance that implied I was either a saint or a fool–probably the latter. Halfway through my black coffee—no sugar, no cream, no regrets—I smiled the kind of smile that comes from knowing a thing other people have forgotten.

“The answer,” I said, “is simple. I’m employed by one of the last honest-to-goodness mom and pop radio stations in the U.S.”

Mom and Pop are Bonnie and Harry Dixon, owners of KUEZ—“Easy 104.1,” if you’re hip to our decades-old branding. The station is near the heart of Reno, like a stubborn old mule who’s too ornery to move and too proud to die in a stucco building that looks like the 1990s, which no one has the heart to change.

I do the early show. It’s not flashy. No wacky sound effects, countdowns of “The Hottest Hits,” or Morning Zoos.

Mostly, it’s Linda Ronstadt, the Eagles, Boz Skaggs, a little Fats Domino sometimes, and whatever Elizabeth Rose brings in from her mysterious milk crate she keeps under her desk like a sacred relic.

Elizabeth’s been my friend for nearly 40 years. We met back when bell-bottoms weren’t ironic, and she’s the only person I’ve ever known who can fold a fitted sheet without cussing. She wears silver bangles that jingle when she laughs and smells faintly of lilacs and vanilla wafers.

The thing about KUEZ is it’s not about the talent behind the microphone. No one’s trying to be the next big voice in broadcasting.

And I like it like that.  I’m just trying to get people to their morning coffee with a little company and maybe a Bonnie Raitt tune that hits them in the chest like it did back when their hearts still worked overtime.

Our listeners are the folks who leave their radios on all day, not because they’re listening, but because silence is just a little too loud. We got Lucille, who calls to correct my grammar and remind me that my weather is “too chipper for someone predicting snow.” And Bob from Fallon, who swears he can pick up our station on his CB radio.

I don’t question it.

There ain’t no Nielsen ratings, no corporate emails telling us to “pivot to digital.” And we still read the headlines and give weather temperatures.

It’s ain’t fancy, but it’s real.

And doing real is getting harder to come by in a world where everything’s filtered, scheduled, and algorithm-approved. On weekday mornings, I flip a switch and chat as if it’s just me and the folks on the porch with the sun rising slowly.

Sometimes, the best signal doesn’t come in high-def–often, it crackles, skips, and hums in just the right places–like a good memory or an old friend who never did learn to whisper.

So, why do I work at a non-rated radio station? I’d rather be a whisper in the right ears than a shout into the void.

And besides, Elizabeth brings the coffee.