I work for a radio station that presents local news, with a little world news segment. We offer a summer internship for journalism students at the local university to come and see how radio news works, and even help put together the script for some stories. Part of this involves a quick test during the interview stage, asking them to write a quick headline and copy for made-up world news events.

Manager: “Why didn’t you put [Student’s Name] through to the consideration list?”

Me: “Oh, that guy? Look, we only have two intern spaces, so they need to go to the very best.”

Manager: “What’s wrong with [Student’s Name]? He’s the son of a friend, so I kinda wanted to give him a chance.”

Me: “On his newscast copy, he said guerrilla warfare was ‘monkeys with guns’.”

Manager: “…Never mind.”

A few years ago, the World’s Largest Rubber Duck came to our city. A local radio station got a permit, and we had a street party. (For those who think this is weird, it was an excuse to say, “Hey, that is a big duck!”, and then eat bad food and drink for a few hours.)

The radio station was playing as many duck-related songs as they could — mostly any rock song that said “duck” in any context.

My wife and I were standing around waiting for the duck. I, a fat white dude in my thirties, started chatting with an elderly Black dude.

Me: “Man. They should play the DuckTales theme song.”

I said this knowing full well that the man may not have any idea what “DuckTales” was. He was definitely old enough that his child would not have watched it, but maybe a grandchild?

Dude: “Yes, they should.”

Like an hour went by, and we got separated in the crowd.

Then, the radio station started blaring the “DuckTales” theme song.

In the crowd, I saw an old Black man raise his head, scan the crowd, and give me a nod and a smile, and then he turned away.

I was the overnight news anchor for a local radio station in central Ohio. During the winter, the very first flakes of snow would start the calls to see if school was closed because of the weather. Our station policy was to not give this information over the phone, but to tell them to listen to the radio for the announcements.

Of course, this wasn’t good enough for some people:

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to listen to the radio.”

Caller: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “The TV stations announce it too.”

Caller: “I don’t have a TV either.”

Me: “Do you have a window?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Well you keep looking out the window and if you see the school bus coming, it means that there’s school today!”

My boss laughed as he gave me a verbal warning for being rude to a listener.

I work in radio engineering at a large radio station. Our office has a new guy who is fresh out of college and training. He gets a tech call.

Caller: “Someone spilled coffee on the mixing board in the control room. We need you over here to help us disconnect the board and figure out what will need replacing.”

New Guy: “Okay, well, we have to go by the book and troubleshoot—”

Caller: “Nah, you don’t need to troubleshoot. Just come over and—”

New Guy: “No. I have to go by the rulebook, and it’s telling me to tell you how to disconnect the board according to the manual.”

Caller: “It’s literally on fire. Maybe we don’t need to follow the rulebook.”

I have a common English name (like John Smith) that has led to some interesting stories over the years. To avoid confusion, and for security, I always use my middle initial when signing legal documents, i.e., John B. Smith instead of John Smith, or my full name, John [Middle Name] Smith.

Story #1: I am driving home from work and listening to the news on the radio.

Announcer: “Breaking news! John Smith who lives in [My City] has just won a groundbreaking legal decision in his favor.”

By the time I get home fifteen minutes later, I have sixteen messages on my answering machine from reporters for ABC News, NBC News, CBS News, the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, etc. I don’t respond to the messages and let them figure it out.

Story #2: I get a bill from a collection agency wanting me to pay $8,000 for some jewelry that “I” recently bought in San Francisco. I live 400 miles away in Los Angeles and haven’t been to San Francisco in two years. I ignore the bill because it is not my debt.

What follows next are more bills demanding payment and threatening phone calls from the collection agency. 

Collection Agency #1: “We know it is you, and you’d better pay us, or we will destroy your credit rating! How about we settle for $6,000?”

At one point, the agency wants me to verify my SSN (my US government ID number) with what they have in their records, BUT I have to tell them my SSN FIRST to see if it matches. (Not happening!)

Every time I tell them “No!”, the settlement price drops until it is down to $1,000. I call a lawyer to see what my options are. He tells me to just pay it or else they will ruin my credit rating.

Me: “Your advice is to just pay them the $1,000 so they will leave me alone? That sounds like extortion to me.”

I ignored my lawyer’s STUPID advice. I never gave that collection agency a dime, and my credit rating didn’t suffer.

Story #3: Another collection agency contacts me about a $20,000 bank loan that is in default. Again, this is not my debt but a fraudulent loan taken out in my very common name. My legal signature always includes my middle initial, (John B. Smith). This loan was taken out by a person using the name John Smith, who lived in a different city than me.

On the phone with the agency representative, I ask him to show me some proof that it is my signature on the loan papers. His reply makes me laugh because he acts like that’s a VERY unusual request.

Collection Agency #2: “You want to see your signature on the loan papers? I don’t have access to those documents.”

I eventually got three copies of the checks written on the loan, and you didn’t have to be a handwriting expert to figure out that they were written by three different people. Not one of them matched my writing or my signature.

I didn’t pay that agency $20,000, and my credit rating never suffered.