Instead, they recoiled in horror, yet somehow managed to politely say, "Uh, thanks, Dana...we'll get back to you if we decide to use it." Devastated, I swore Night Of The Living Pledge Drive (NOTLP) would never see the light of day again.
Well, Fate had other ideas for NOTLP.
A few months later, I happened to mention the poem and KUT's reaction to it to my long-time friend and NPR buddy, Rich Rarey. Rarey (whom I've known since working together during college at WOUB-AM-FM at Ohio University in Athens, OH) asked to read it and I reluctantly sent it to him.
The next thing I knew, a producer from NPR's Morning Edition called asking if I'd give them permission to run an edited verion of NOTLP on the upcoming national fundraising channel during Morning Edition. In a twist of fate I certainly never expected, National Public Radio ended up airing nationally the poem my own "home" station was too embarrassed to broadcast.
Since then, the poem has resided on an NPR technical website as a constant reminder to engineers throughout public broadcasting that without them, there would be no public radio or television.
With WNCW's 2009 Spring Pledge Drive quickly approaching (it kicks off with Saturday Night House Party at 7PM on March 28th and concludes with Goin' Across The Mountain the following Saturday), I thought, "What the heck? Why not pull out NOTLP one more time?"
OK, so I'm not Robert Frost or Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Chances are, I seriously doubt that you'll hear Garrison Keillor reading NOTLP on The Writer's Almanac., either. But, I hope you'll enjoy it and remember to pledge your support to WNCW...a public radio station like no other.
You can pledge your support to WNCW NOW by clicking HERE
Enjoy!
-------------
Night of the Living Pledge Drive
Come gather 'round your radio, listeners
and I'll tell you a tale that'll make your skin crawl
'bout a fund raiser seemingly doomed to failure
and what could happen if you don't make the call...
It was late night on that dreary eve
many years ago
In the midst of an annual pledge drive
for public radio.
The manager stood up and gazed
at his staff and volunteers
And read a list of facts and figures
which confirmed their greatest fears.
He said, "Folks, the last nine days have been
a long, hard, grueling task
And your efforts on the station's behalf
were more than I could ask."
"We gave our listeners the best we had
but the phones just did not ring
and tomorrow at noon, this fund raiser ends
and the fat lady's about to sing."
"We've come up short, it's fair to say
along about 50 grand
So I've come to you to seek ideas
on how we can make our final stand."
They looked at one another
and a great debate ensued
Three hours passed, and they said at last,
"The boss is right, we're screwed."
At that very instant
the floor began to shake
It started as a shimmy
then it grew into a quake.
The windows rattled, the lights grew dim
and they heard an evil roar
rise up from the building's deep, dark depths
and it shook each person to their core.
Then suddenly, the lights went out
and people shrieked and cried
A blast blew off the studio doors
and four men stepped inside.
A calming silence followed
as the dust and smoke did clear
and then they heard a husky voice,
"This situation calls for an engineer."
The four stood in the doorway
their coffee cups in hand
With cigarettes dangling from their mouths
despite the company ban.
Their blue work pants were stained with dirt
their shirts, or course, were plaid
They'd left their basement workshop
and, boy, did they look mad.
The senior tech surveyed the room
and snarled, "We're taking charge.
We need a new oscilloscope,
and this year's budget just ain't that large."
"So, stand back, folks, and man those phones,
cuz' soon they'll start to ring.
The fat lady hasn't sung just yet
and desperate men do desperate things."
He turned to his companions
and said, "This pledge drive's ours.
Gary, take the board! Paul, take the mic!
Dave, crank the transmitter power!"
At 1 AM, they hit the air
and the staff stood back in awe,
as the usual fare of overnight jazz
was pre-empted by discussions of Ohm's Law.
They followed with readings from technical manuals
explaining in graphic detail everything
that appeared on schematics and block diagrams
and lo and behold, the phones started to ring!
The callers were livid. "Have you lost your minds? "
The technical spectacle drove them insane
But to each irate caller that vented their spleen
The volunteers' answer turned the tide of game.
"We're sorry this show leaves you highly perturbed
but the Tech Staff is out of control.
They'll allow us back in to the studios, ma'am
Once we've reach our fund raising goal."
"That's an outrage! This is blackmail," the callers declared.
"This is driving us over the edge."
They could stand it no more, and cursing a storm
they tripled their annual pledge.
An hour on tape decks, their cleaning and care
Then balanced and unbalanced circuit design
With brain-numbing focus the engineers read
from technical updates that boggled the mind.
By five in the morning, the pledge room was jumping
the total was rising, phones rang off the hooks
The listeners were pleading for someone to stop them
but the engineers continued on reading their books.
With pauses for NPR news on the hour
and dozens of doughnuts and endless caffeine
They continued with theories on electrical power
and the totals kept rising at a rate quite obscene.
By eight, crowds had gathered with weapons and torches
and they threatened severe retribution.
But the volunteers countered that all it'd take
were significant cash contributions.
By ten in the morning, the rogue engineers
were explaining the color code found on resistors,
expounding on logarithmic scales and compressors
and the age old debate about tubes or transistors.
In the meantime the pledge room had plunged into chaos
with listeners shouting and pulling out hair,
Begging to give any sum that was asked for
to get the four technical dweebs off the air.
People with checkbooks cried out for mercy
pocketbooks loosened that were usually closed tight
The total climbed upwards, higher and higher
as the fund raiser's goal was now within sight.
Finally at noon, in the midst of a long-winded
discourse on solid-state power supplies
There arose from the pledge room a whoop and a holler
as the goal was surpassed amid laughter and cries.
The volunteers wept, the staff danced with glee
as the celebration went on non-stop.
But the engineers vanished with nary a trace
and retreated to their fortress-like, sub-basement shop.
And there, well-protected from human intrusion,
the technicians brewed some more coffee and smoked
And laughed at their exploits as they hijacked the station
and the outrage and money their actions provoked.
Then, surrounded by gizmos and gadgets aplenty,
test sets and tool kits and soldering guns
the lowly technicians returned to their benches
for a radio engineer's work's never done.
Far above them, the party continued for hours
as All Things Considered returned to the air
but as night fell the crowds slowly dwindled to nothing
as they drove home to listen to Car Talk and Fresh Air.
And never again did the pledge phones grow silent
and each pledge drive results in a new celebration
For the listeners remember that one night of terror
when the engineers programmed the radio station.
So, the next time you hear us ask for money
and you think you can't stand any more
Just remember, I'm the station's Technical Director
and my techs still have keys to the Air Control door.
------------------
Support WNCW. Click HERE or call us at (800) 245-8870.
Tune in. Turn on. But don't drop out.
DEW
