WHY RADIO IS LAME

Joe Hipperson here. I’ve been trying to update this blog here and there…not trying to OVER do it—that’s why you don’t get the same type of update over and over again.

On day I’ll be telling you why Jessica Simpson is an anti-woman self loving attention whore. The day after that I could be exposing my soul, showing everyone how pissed off I am at the lack of time Hipp Nights gets on St. Louis airwaves. And then there are the updates that involve my personal life.

Today?

Well, today I’m going to tell you why the radio industry drives me crazy. Don’t worry, I’m not going on a rant about my persecution. I’m no hero and I don’t deserve to be a martyr. J.C. CORCORAN?

That guy deserves your passionate resolve to fight for a way to get him (after his sweet ass contract deal expires) BACK on the local airwaves. Ya know, now that I think about it…how cool would it be to have J.C. CORCORAN & JOE HIPPERSON do a morning show together? Jesus. Talk about two polar opposites colliding. Roll your eyes all you want.

Here’s something NO ONE has figured out yet:

Given the RIGHT platform…the right time-slot…the right opportunity—I would be the most listened to talk show host in this city.

There are multiple reasons why…but that isn't the point of this blog entry.

(don't over-analyze the picture...it's just a rough draft of a tattoo I might get)

Back to my point...

I was visiting Mike Anderson's blog. www.stlmediastuff.blogspot.com . I read a post that made me remember just how backwards radio programming can be.

Here is, word for word, what was posted on Mike Anderson's site:

Hatch Research is conducting a paid market research study on Music.
Qualified individuals must be MALES, between the ages of 34 – 41 years old.
Qualified participants must listen to 96.3 K-HITS AS THEIR NUMBER #1 RADIO STATION.
Participants will receive $90 for their time and participation in this 3-hour group interview at our Maplewood, MO location.

Did you REALLY read that? How lame is THAT!? They need to run a market research study and SPEND MONEY to do so--just to figure out how to get the right programming on the radio--in order to get people to listen!?



Christ!



Here we are, in ST. LOUIS! Sure, we're not New York or LA or Chicago...but it's still a decent market for radio...right? I work in radio. You all know that. I've known SO many GREAT talk show hosts/on-air personalities that are not on the air anymore--and you want to know the #1 reason they get told as the pink slip falls into their lap?



They get told that there isn't enough money in the budget to keep them on. Not enough money? Not enough money to pay the people responsible for giving your station PERSONALITY? But they find enough money to throw at consultants and market research teams to get told what they should be doing--instead of thinking for themselves!


Ok, I know you probably think that I'm just "bitching and moaning." I'm not. Listen up, because I have solutions. Some of them I'm going to give out on this blog, for free. The others? Well I guess you'll just have to hire me to be your program director. That is, if you want a station with integrity and a station with balls.

You want to know how smart I am? I'm going to tell you. Almost EVERYONE has some form of MP3 player. That means that the music they love is always on shuffle and giving them exactly what they want: A spontaneous Soundtrack To Their Lives.



So what do they go to the RADIO for???



Personality.



The hosts. The DJ's. Whether TALK or MUSIC format--it's all personality. 10 years ago? Yeah, maybe you could get away with saying that the music was more important than the voices the audience hears--but not today. Not in the climate of 2010.



I've always hated it when radio stations hire out of town consultants who come INTO town, talk to "real people" and determine, for a HUGE FEE, the right direction the station needs to head.



Let me ask you this--WHO gets remembered more? The people that had to get their ideas from others or the innovators that make up their own minds and pick a direction--and move FORWARD--THEIR WAY.



Here's a little experiment...How many radio stations have a program director or programming staff that could listen to Frank Sinatra's "MY WAY," and not get pissed that they are complete hacks?


So my bottom line is simple--if you run a radio station and you want to find out what people want to hear--SELL YOUR STATION. Sell it. Seriously. Or hire someone full-time, not some market research team, and have that someone in a position to have the guts to give your station direction.


You want to figure out what the people like or don't like? Try something radically different in this overly soft, PC smothered society--STAND ALONE! Make your station whatever the hell YOU want.


Hell, if you are THAT powerful that you can hire consultants or market research teams then I'll bet my left nut that you have the authority to make the choice to stand on YOUR OWN IDEAS. YOUR OWN DIRECTION.


Guess what--if people tune in and LIKE IT--You now have something that no one else does! AN ORIGINAL RADIO STATION WITH INTEGRITY!

WHAT GETS ME HIGH...WHAT GETS ME BY...

This blog is very hard to label. One day I use it as an outlet to vent. Another day I hear some cool entertainment ‘buzz’ and I want to share it right away. Kind of makes me feel like Perez…only straight…and thin…and not f*cking retarded.


There have been times that I can’t hold back my feelings about the BS hero worship that infects this American nation. (for more on that please read my post on why I hate Jessica Simpson)



There are times that this blog is written by my producer and “Engineer Extraordinaire,” Josh. Sometimes we use this blog together…either to hype an up-coming radio show (and there will be more white guys at Tyler Perry movies than Hipp Nights broadcasts during the Cardinal’s season) and sometimes this blog becomes a recap of what you missed if you chose to embrace your Saturday night.



So…what am I using it for today?


I have a story to tell.


Two stories, actually.


They could be told in very poetic, drawn out ways…or I could just get straight to it.


Let’s see how well I do at just getting right to the point.


Lately I have been feeling very different. Some days I feel like me. Joe Hipperson. Other days I feel like everything I’ve accomplished in life doesn’t matter. Because, in the end—you are only the reaction that you give to those shoveling it on you. Think about it…It could be love, hate, disrespect…there are people out there that will lack the ability to open their mind to accept anything that doesn’t come from their own backward-ass chasm of a brain. Don’t let them win. Hell, they don’t even have the 2 cells needed to figure out that you are “winning by choosing to live well and not let their ignorance bother you.”



So my point is this: I f*cked up and let a couple of actions towards me get the best of me. The ignorance and disrespect shown to me caused me to react in a negative way. Soooooooooo I moped around and tried to shun myself away from anything that might make me happy.


Son of a bitch…I can’t get to the point, can I?!



Damn.



Okay…so, I was depressed.



I can really set the mood, can’t I? I was so depressed that I went out of my way to listen to Simon & Garfunkel…by candlelight. Christ.



A couple nights ago I was walking my Maltese, KC. It was a little after 11PM and the house was quiet. I did my regular ‘round the block with her and made it back to the darkened plastic house in Imperial.



I Opened the door and was about to walk down stairs to take a shower…when I heard a giggle.



Like an idiot, I looked at the dog.



Like she had just giggled at me.



After a second of feeling stupid I looked up the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye…there were the eyes of 4 year old Shawn Patrick…hiding under a blanket. I pretended that I didn’t see him and started walking up the steps. I got to the very top and said, “Shawn? Did you turn into a blanket?”



He laughed and shot up. He looked at me, very seriously, and said, “I was pretending, Dad. I’m not really a blanket. I was trying to fall asleep but my covers were messed up.”



“Shawn, it’s past eleven. It’s way past your bed time.” Shawn looked at me and held three fingers up.



“Okay, Dad. I can have these minutes? Just these minutes?”



“Okay, Shawn. I’m going to take a shower and then get my jammies on. Will you be in bed when I’m done?”



“Deal, Daddy!” So I went downstairs and jumped into the shower. Not one minute had gone by and I heard the sound of KC running around upstairs and Shawn chasing her…laughing.



After a speed shower I took a minute for depression…looking into the mirror and noticing that every wrinkle on my face equaled about 10 hairs off the top of my head.



Son of a bitch.



I went upstairs, saw that it was almost midnight—got REALLY excited that I was only going to get 5 hours of sleep—and started to look around for Shawn. He wasn’t there. Is it possible that he actually went into his bed after his “these minutes” were up? I checked his room. Nothing. I went into my room, expecting to see him lying in my spot, but all I got was the sawing of logs from Mrs. Hipperson…who was also hogging the covers. I heard a whisper.



“Daddy!” I spun around and saw Shawn at the end of the hallway. How did I miss him? What did he have in his hand? In a singsong type of voice he said, “I’ve got your special pillow!”



“Shawn, we’ve got to go to sleep…if Mom wakes up we’re dead!”



“Okay, Dad, but we just need to make your special pillow cold.”



The following 5 minutes were spent with me lifting Shawn up, while he was holding my “special” pillow, so that he could open the freezer—and insert said pillow. After the 5 minutes in the freezer, Shawn and I walked into my bedroom. He asked, “Is it okay that I sleep in Daddy’s bed? I’ll be good. Just don’t snore, Dad, and I can sleep in your bed.”



I got him tucked in. I clung to the 2 inches of bed that I had for myself and then I felt him hug me. He whispered, “I really love you, Dad.”



Here’s my other little story.



The other night I noticed that it was getting near 9:00 PM. The bedtime for my sons is 8:30. When Dad (me) is the enforcer of bedtime it means that the kids and I are usually on our second bag of popcorn by 8:30.



This night was different. My wife had put them to bed and I was on second patrol. I was the closer. I had already gone into Shawn’s room and sung him his new, favorite bedtime song, “Ring of Fire.” Yeah, I try to channel The Man In Black.



So, I had wrapped up my song and kissed Shawn goodnight when I noticed that I could hear people talking in Avery’s room.



Avery, being only 10, I doubt has developed multiple personalities…and I knew I hadn’t let anyone in the house. So, I opened the door and say Avery, lying in bed, and listening to his stereo.



Usually he has “American Idiot,” by Green Day or “LOVE,” by The Beatles in his cd player. Instead…well…it was me. Not my old band, Vallium, which he has listened to by the way—but I didn’t force him to—just in case some bastard out there thinks I’m force feeding my kids music their Dad made in a ‘wanna-be’ punk band from the ‘90’s.



No, he was listening to my talk radio show, HIPP NIGHTS.



I sometimes burn shows to CD so I can listen back to them. You know, just to hear how an interview went, or to agonize at just how much of a jackass I sound like on the air. He had taken a CD from a previous show and put it in his stereo so he could listen to it while he fell asleep.



A million emotions flooded me within seconds. I wanted to say hundreds of different phrases—all cliché and all lame. Instead I looked at him and he looked at me. We both gave each other a nod of the head…and I knew, at that moment, I was looking into the eyes of—what will one day be—a hell of a guy. He’s a brilliant child, don’t get me wrong…but, at that moment, it was almost like I could see my (future) grown-up son as a man…staring back at me and giving me an unspoken signal. A nod of the head. A way to say everything you need to without eating up time.



So as I look ahead at the astronomical number of radio shows that I WON’T HAVE over the Cardinal baseball season…I don’t hit any panic buttons.



Sure, I’d like to be on more. Hell, I’d like to be on every day. But my happiness or my success isn’t judged by it.



I won’t let anyone—anyone judge me. Not while I’m here. After I die? Sure thing. Judge your ass off. Until that day comes to pass you can count on me enjoying a life where I don’t give a rat’s ass what zip code I live in or how much money my spouse makes.



To all of those superficial people that actually have the balls to think things like that matter—I say this: I’m richer than you’ll ever be…and as long as I’m with Lashawna, Avery & Shawn—I’m in a home better than whatever your fancy ass zip code provides.

THE FACTS OF LIFE

Effective May 1^st, things are going to change for HIPP NIGHTS.

Usually, I pepper my posts on this blog with opinion. When I’m on the air I try to always let my emotions dictate my actions. Yeah, I’m sure that there are people who will tell you that you need to check your emotions at the door, but guess what: I’m a human being, asshole. I bleed.

The reason for the preceding paragraph is simple: I’m only going to state FACT. No commentary. I have a feeling that you will be able to come up with your own opinion.

I know I have.

Again, effective May 1st, things are going to change for HIPP NIGHTS.

AT THIS POINT I WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE.

I AM A LIAR. I AM GOING TO FUSE PERSONAL OPINION INTO THE FOLLOWING FACT:

A good friend, and a man that I'm stoked to hear on the station, Dennis George, has convinced KTRS that his show is needed for the masses...and thank God, too. Seriously, he's the real deal. Very cool guy...so, moving forward, after May 1st, he will be doing a show every Sunday from 8-10pm.

As cool as it is to have DENNIS GEORGE get a shot on Sunday...now let's get back to 100% FACT...This knocks Bill Clevlen out of a slot. So, in order to keep his trivia show on the air, KTRS management decided to place him on Saturday nights.

So, starting May 1^st, Bill Clevlen will be on from 9-11pm.

So far you get all this, right?

On guy comes in, gets a show, and instead of that show replacing Bill's completely, management is making the decision to move Bill's 2-hours into the time slot that was given to me for Hipp Nights.

So they took HIPP NIGHTS and cut it by 2 hours. Leaving me to do 6-9pm.

Again, let me state that I am only giving you FACTS and NOT opinion.

(Except for the part about Dennis George being a cool guy...that is, in truth, MY opinion...listen to him and make up your own mind)

So far, everything posted about this situation is 100% legit, factual & non-biased.

Let’s continue…

Now that the St. Louis Cardinals are back in full swing there are games being played a lot. All of these games disrupt the regular programming on KTRS.

On Saturday nights it is no different.

The Cardinals have afternoon games on many of the Saturdays for the remainder of the season. They also have games in the evening.

When a game is played in the evening, obviously, it will mean that Bill and I will not have shows.

When a game is played in the afternoon KTRS will not have regular programming begin until 8PM.

Although I have been given the slot of 6-9pm, when it’s time for regular programming to resume at 8pm, I will not be allowed to do my show. Instead, Bill Clevlen will be given an extra hour and do his show from 8-11pm.

Joe Hipperson, host of Hipp Nights, will be doing his show on Saturday nights from 6-9pm. Bill Clevlen will follow and do a show from 9-11pm.

Again, I’ll remind you that, in 100% fact, Bill Clevlen will be on at 8pm when the Cardinals have an afternoon game that allows regular programming to resume between 6-9pm.

Having just read over this entire post twice I would like to remind anyone reading it that I have not, in any way, stated my opinion about this set up. (Except, AGAIN, the fact that Dennis George is a kool kat. That's kool with a 'k.' That kind of koolness 'plays')

I only, sincerely want my audience of listeners to be made aware that YES, I have been given the shortened time slot of 6-9pm, but that there will be times when, following a Cardinal broadcast, if they tune it at 8pm, they will hear Bill Clevlen and not me.

All fact and no fiction...outside of a little D-George opinion.

And WHY? Why do I have a positive opinion about DENNIS GEORGE?

Simple, kids. Dennis George represents--ON THE AIR--everything that I strive to force feed down the throats of the privileged: RADIO should be HONEST & FUN. Listen to this guy and see if I'm wrong.

WHY I HATE JESSICA SIMPSON

I have never met Jessica Simpson. Outside of direct quotes, the following is my opinion.

JESSICA SIMPSON

First of all, Jessica Simpson is NOT your friend. I’m talking to all the women out there who were duped by Denise Richards and are now being manipulated by the udderless cow, Jessica. She’s better than you and she knows it. The reason why I need to spout truth like this is simple. My wife, salt of the earth & free thinking beauty, has been using our DVR to record some dumb as balls reality show starring the before mentioned stout starlet. And I say starlet loosely. Loose... Like a hot dog down a hallway loose, okay?

This show, called “THE PRICE OF BEAUTY,” is all about the flesh covered Miss Piggy jumping from one country to the next and interviewing people so they can see what “other people” find beautiful.

For the record, in an interview for the March 2010 issue of Allure Magazine, Simpson said that she is looking for edgier, more intellectual roles.

Now I know, because when I’m on the radio it happens all the time, that I could go ON & ON & ON about how draining it is to have this program on in our house. Even if I’m doing laundry and I’m in a different room—I can still hear the sound of her cheeks flap when she talks to the camera. Since I am fully capable of rambling I have decided to let FACTS set most of this up.


WHY EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HATE JESSICA SIMPSON

By Joe Hipperson, the best talk show host that doesn’t have a real, full-time show…and should…because talk radio is boring. Back in 2008 Jessica Simpson sang for The Rape Crisis Center in Las Vegas, at The Palms' Pearl Theater. "I think this will be a more passionate performance than most," Simpson told the Las Vegas Review-Journal. "It's important to make a stand for women's rights. If I can get up there and be any inspiration to women, I am blessed to have that opportunity."


She went on...


"The great thing…is it's a message of prevention," says Simpson. "I think it's important as a woman to lend a hand to other women and just try to encourage people that everything's going to be okay." So Jessica is all about women’s rights. I’m sure that if I walked up to her and told her that all women should be subservient to the men in their lives she would grab a reporter and talk about how terrible my words of hate are. But wait…there’s more. Jessica Simpson is on the May cover of Marie Claire magazine…AND she’s sans makeup or retouching.

Holy Lord. See ladies, she’s just like you! No, wait a minute…she’s not. All she cares about is the paycheck from her damn TV show. Without it she can’t afford all the food! Or she can’t afford all the doctors to make her thin when she needs to be. But don’t worry, squirrel friends, she’ll be sure to look “ugly/normal” again. Right about the time when she needs “regular” women to watch her TV show.

CARE2, a dumb-ass women’s rights website actually said, “It may not be worthy of a Noble Peace Prize, but Simpson's move is bold, especially in an industry that cashes in on the perpetuation of unrealistic beauty standards. The cover, a simple shot of Simpson against a wall, shows the star with a slightly uncomfortable smile that betrays a hint of insecurity. It's all fitting for a woman who has publicly admitted to battling low self-esteem.”


Wow…isn’t she a f*ckin’ saint.


Wait, she’s a woman. Can women be saints? I can’t remember anymore. I know women aren’t allowed to get all the bonuses that the priests get…

Woah—got to stay on point. Keep to the message.

Jessica Simpson sucks.

And so do feminists, now that I think about it.

CARE2, the go-girl website went on to print this: “in a sell-out moment, Simspon gave in to the pressure of the record industry and traded in purity for a newer, more Irresistible image in 2001. Thinner and scantily-clad, Simpson tossed aside power ballads for breathy synthesized songs with naughtier lyrics.”

Sell out? How is she a sell out? Because she looked hot? Let me tell you all something that NO ONE HAS THE BALLS TO SAY. Seriously, sometimes my Dad tells me to remember that you have to crawl before you can walk. Well, Dad, I love you—but I’m going to run with this.


IF YOU ARE NOT SELLING OUT THEN YOU AIN’T SELLING SH*T! Yeah, I know that “ain’t” ain’t a word. But it sounded better. It had kind of a white-trash vibe to it. Kind of a Jessica Simpson vibe.

So let’s look at what I just said before we carry on and continue to prove why Jessica Simpson is the worst role model possible for women. “If you are not selling out then you ain’t selling sh*t.” I don’t think anyone in St. Louis media—and yes, I AM part of the St. Louis media (even though most media members think that’s BS)—would ever say that or admit to it. We love to throw stones at “sell-outs.”

Sell Outs are people that do what is needed in order to make something of themselves. If you don’t have natural, God given beauty and you decide to get surgery to make things better—are you a sell out?


Nope.


Can I back that one up?


Sure.


Am I going to right now?


Nope.


Now, back to Jessica Simpson. Isn’t it GREAT that she is on the cover of Marie Claire? Oh ladies, ladies, ladies…how great that she is showing you ALL that you don’t have to be touched up to be beautiful!


(imagine me on the top of a mountain with a giant megaphone, screaming)


BULLSH*T!


Jessica Simpson has her own line of perfume, handbags, shoes, dresses, swimwear, intimate apparel, coats, luggage, sunglasses, and accessories.


AND SHE SOLD OUT WHEN SHE BY BEING SKINNY?


Right. Hey, feminists, just because she’s uglier than she used to be it doesn’t mean that she’s not milking every single one of you for your last dime.


Think about it. She was super hot and skinny when she first came out…and she was loved by—TEENS…then, the teens become women in their EARLY 20’s…now, all of her fans have hit the magic time of MOTHERHOOD.


You think Jessica is the Messiah of women’s rights and feminism…or a marketing genius?


NOW ON TO THE PART THAT GETS ME FULL CIRCLE. If you don’t buy into my opinions on Jessica The Hutt then please, pretty please, read this next part twice.


Jessica is praised by feminists and recently said, “It's important to make a stand for women's rights.”


Yesterday, on the DVR, my wife was watching a recent episode of Jessica’s reality show, “The Price of Beauty.” In the episode, titled TOKYO, Jessica and her friend went to the Far East...and learned how to be Geishas. Jessica sat, dumbfounded, while she was told how important it is to serve the man who pays for their company. She became very nervous that she wouldn’t do a good job.

Did you hear that, feminists? I guess the only women Jessica cares about are WHITE AMERICAN WOMEN.

Yeah, I said it.

Why?

Because there’s another episode that my wife watched called UGANDA. In this one, Jessica travels to a very remote location, where she meets Judy; an ambassador from a tribe that introduces them to the philosophy that "fat" is beautiful for women. The Hima tribe values their women as they value their cattle, "the fatter, the better". Jessica meets an upcoming bride who has been preparing for her wedding in a "fattening hut" for over two months where she drinks milk and "ghee" until she becomes fat—because that’s what the man wants. What do you think happens to the woman, in this remote tribe, if she decides not to obey? Did Jessica speak to her about women’s rights? The right to have the body you want? No. Instead, she laughed and salivated at the idea of getting locked in a “fattening hut” for two months.

Again, unless the women are white Americans, Jessica will EXPLOIT the abuse of females all around the world—ALL FOR RATINGS and MONEY.

The bottom line is this: Jessica Simpson and her (latest) reality TV show is further proof that ‘causes’ for the betterment and equality of human beings should never stake their trust and message in celebrity idiots.


Ladies, Jessica Simpson hates you.

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

FEEDBACK

Hey kids, Joe Hipperson here. This past Saturday I brought up PROBLEM # 27 from the "99 PROBLEMS" in the HIPP NIGHTS LIBRARY. In short, Jen "The Embryo Hoarder" from Kirkwood was given some serious attention from me, as well as the other guys in studio. Instead of re-hashing my (brilliant) opinion on the subject, I'm just going to share a couple random e-mails I got from some listeners:

Damn! I just hooted in the kitchen at your "shades of grey" comment. I don't know if I completely agree, but I love you saying it. Aside from my usual complaint of Hipp Nights being a sausage fest (maybe if a smart woman was in there, you'd know how 4 eggs got fertilized at the same time, etc.), but tonight's show is the FINEST I've heard you ever do imho. Great job, Joe!

Traci Kennebeck

Joe,

Thanks for the great entertainment, and informative programming.

I am not hip, but, I pretend.

Thanks again, you are one sexy sounding man.

rwc