Saturday, March 9, 2024
WKRP’s Doctor Johnny Fever and the Red Wigglers commercial
Welcome, everyone. I’ve been pondering what to do for my weekend posts, and nothing seemed right. Suddenly an idea popped into my mind for “Vintage Vignettes.” That gives me a broad range of topics. It might be a fictional vignette, a memory, something about music, or… just about anything. What they will have in common is that each post will have something to do with the past.
With this first post of the series, I have a hodgepodge — retro TV, feline fun, and a short story (albeit a rerun). Here we go with the first post for Vintage Vignettes.
Velma, the smaller of my two ginger “Scoobies,” has developed the habit of rolling back and forth, wiggling on the floor whenever I go from one room to the next. I had the thought that she looks like a fish that’s accidentally jumped into a boat or onto the shore. It made me remember the Red Wigglers bit on the old TV series, WKRP in Cincinatti. (See the Youtube video at the top of the page.) So, I called her a red wiggler.
Then I remembered a short story I wrote. A couple of years ago, I had asked Olga Núñez Miret for photos of the radio station where she volunteers (103.2 FM Sants 3 Radio in Spain), so I could use them as inspiration. All those things fell into place in my head. So I’m rerunning that story today.
First, I want to give a shout-out about Olga’s many books. Just to name a few: Escaping Psychiatry (a three book series) and You’re Never Too Old to Be a Prom Queen.
My story takes place in a fictional city with a name that sounds somewhat similar to Cincinatti. Let’s join Béda and her friend River.
The Radio Dial
The coffee maker kicked on and started sputtering. That favorite aroma wafted to my nose as I got out of bed. My reminder chirped, “Get up, Béda.” I went to the kitchen where I had left breakfast-related items set up and waiting for me. Planned, orderly, and ordinary.
That probably sounds boring, but it’s how I liked it — predictable. I turned on the radio, just as the weather forecast played. It was a perfectly normal day.
“Today in the greater Scioto River Valley, the dry trend continues. Here in Chillicothe, you can expect lots of sun, with a high of 86 degrees,” the meteorologist chanted in a monotone voice.
Good, I thought. No need to worry about what to wear or umbrellas.
As we had planned a week before, I met up with my friend River. She took me through a tour of the radio station where she had started working the year before. She had left my name at the front desk, and the receptionist told me to “go on up.”
River and another announcer were behind a glass window in one of the intriguing little rooms. Spotting me, she waved hello. She held up one finger to signal that she would be out in a moment.
“Maybe it’s not as high-tech as NASA, but it’s ‘home.’ We’re a small, independent station,” she remarked as I stared at a control panel.
“I wouldn’t know. It all seems modern to me,” I replied and asked a series of questions about how things worked. “I guess my questions were obvious, but I think it’s all fascinating.”
“You’ve gotten awfully quiet,” River started, looking at me perceptively. “I was afraid this would stir up memoires for you. Are you okay, Béda?”
“Memories? Oh, you know I just get quiet sometimes. I’m fine, and I’m really enjoying looking around the station,” I said. “We should have done this sooner.”
Oddly, for a moment I didn’t understand what she meant. I had never been inside a radio station, so I didn’t have any memories to stir. Then I had a duh-moment.
“Oh, him,” I muttered when consciousness caught up with my subconscious. “Honestly, that was just a fling. I haven’t thought about it in ages.”
River’s eyes narrowed and she smirked. Then she shook her head and chuckled.
“Just a fling, my rear-end. You moped around for months when ‘Hotwire’ ran off. Let’s get some fresh air. A retro shop just opened up at the end of the block,” she suggested.
Hotwire had been a popular radio announcer, over a decade before. Although he didn’t exactly run off — he disappeared altogether. Granted, radio personalities regularly changed their names when they moved to new cities, but I had never heard of anyone similar to Hotwire. Regardless, I wrote him off and had not thought about him in years.
The electronic bell pinged as River opened the door to the shop filled with vintage items. Glancing over her shoulder as she entered the store, she caught my expression.
“They have some fun stuff. Come on,” she encouraged me, seeming to follow where my mind went with the modern bell. “I know you’d rather browse antiques, but the retro things are cool too.”
Maybe it was because those memories had been brought to the front of my mind, but a piece of vintage electronics caught my eye. It was an old boombox radio-cassette player, exactly like the one I had in the 80s. Later models were rounded and sleeker, but mine was second-hand. It was all hard edges and sharp corners, but I had held it by that uncomfortable handle that went all the way across the top and carried it everywhere I went.
I ran my finger across it, lost in thought. It had horizontal row of numbers where the several red “needles” could slide across, depending on what kind of channel you wanted. An array of twisty knobs and push-buttons went across the top. I remembered that it took a strong finger to press those buttons. On the front were two big round speakers with, of course, the cassette slot between them.
“Oh no,” River murmured, catching up with me. “My station tour really did send you on a walk down memory lane. Are you going to buy it?” she asked.
I only nodded mutely, as if mesmerized. Finally, I cleared my throat and answered.
River held a vintage Tang pitcher, made by Anchor Hocking, which she would purchase.
“All sales final, lady. No returns if it doesn’t work,” the clerk croaked at me with a skeptical look at the radio. “Some people from out of state dropped off a boxful of stuff. Ohio, I think. So, you wouldn’t be able to get anything back.”
I didn’t care whether it worked or not. I was caught up in my own nostalgia.
After I got home and eventually started to unwind for the evening, I took out the boombox.
“A silly waste of money. What was I thinking?”
The machine would work by electric or battery. Amazingly it was intact, with the electric cord tucked into a compartment at the back. I plugged it into the wall outlet. It was no surprise when I wasn’t able to pick up any radio channels. I never could get more that garbled phrases intermixed with static, even with modern equipment. I turned off the offensive noise.
Hold on… Is that a cassette left in the slot? The clerk said I wouldn’t be able to reach the past owner, so I hoped it wasn’t anything sentimental. Feeling like a voyeur, I rewound the tape and played it.
About ten minutes later I picked up the phone to call River.
“Hi, River. Are you able to listen to something for me? I think I might be going nuts,” I started, feeling foolish.
“Actually, not at the moment. I’m just finishing up taking some photos for the station,” she began and then suddenly gasped. “Don’t tell me this is about that boombox? I’m not far from your place. I could come by when I finish. I can be there in fifteen minutes or so.”
Soon, River and I sat in my living room. We stared at the boombox as though it might bite or grow a tail.
“Béda, this is a little scary. You didn’t find a recording of a murder or anything did you?” she asked, only half joking.
“Worse,” I muttered sardonically. “It’s him, Hotwire, aka Jack Early.
“But how—” she stopped before finishing the question.
I inserted the cassette and pressed the old resistant buttons. The machine made the soft hissing sound I had forgotten about as the tape began to play.
“Béda, have you ever wondered… Wondered whatever became of me?” the voice I had never expected to hear again started.
“That really is him!” River exclaimed and I paused the tape. “Of course, you know even better though. But he was so popular, and his voice is unmistakable. No, you certainly are not going nuts!”
“That’s not all,” I said and turned the machine on again.
“I was in your town recently and spotted you in a restaurant,” Jack’s voice explained. “I wanted to talk to you, but I chickened out. I’m not sure if this tape will make its way to you, but you never know,” I could hear the shrug in his tone, and it was as if I had only seen him yesterday.
“I never expected fame. I just liked playing records. All the sudden popularity overwhelmed me. I couldn’t deal with the bedlam, and I ran. I know that’s a stupid excuse. I thought of you a thousand times as I moved from city to city, up and down the dial,” the recording went on. “But I kept telling myself that maybe you and me were never meant to be. And I hoped that just maybe you’d think of me once in awhile.”
“Heading up that highway and leaving you behind was about the hardest thing I ever did. It broke my heart in two, but Béda, pay no mind. The price for finding me was losing you. Or that’s what I told myself.”
There was a brief moment of blank space on the tape. Just when I thought it was broken, he continued.
“Finally, I got kinda tired of packin’ and unpackin’ and moving from town to town, up and down the dial. I dropped the DJ act and became a station manager. If you think that maybe you and me were never meant to be, then I understand. But if you ever wondered whatever became of me… I’m at WKR3 in Cirrostrati.”
River and I were both silent for a long moment. She looked at me, as if she tried to navigate the flows of my thoughts.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
Suddenly irritated at the whole thing I shrugged.
“What kind of game is he playing?” I fumed. “I was never enamored of Hotwire,” I said his radio moniker with a sneer, but then got myself under control. “As much as I hate to admit it, all those years ago, I probably would have chased after Jack Early, but not Hotwire — if I’d had any idea where to look. Now…”
“If he’s a station manager in Cirrostrati now, I’m sure I could find out about him,” River offered. “Not a full background check, but I could at least find out whether he’s married or involved. And I have airline miles if you want someone to go along for moral support and see for yourself.”
“He’s the one who left. I’m not being stubborn, but I’ve got a right to be distrustful. The ‘once in awhile’ thing isn’t enough,” I replied glumly. “He apparently knows where to find me, and I’m in the phonebook. I think he needs to be the one to come to me.”
“Or, you could throw it back into the hands of fate,” River remarked, and I asked what she meant. “We could go to Cirrostrati for a mini-vacation and see if your paths happen to cross.”
“Fate, smate,” I said rolling my eyes. “Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me to look for a sign.”
“Okay, okay. I really do understand. I know this has been bizarre and stressful for you. Why don’t we order some delivery from the Chinese restaurant, and watch some TV?” River suggested.
With Moo Goo Gai Pan and Singapore rice noodles on the way, I turned on the television. Since I didn’t watch a lot of TV, I had no idea what would be on at that moment. I was about to click over to my usual, when an old rerun came onto the screen.
The end of a long-forgotten theme song rang out…
“But Baby, think of me once in awhile… I’m at WKR3 in Cirrostrati.”
The end.
♣ ♣ ♣
What does Béda do? Nothing, because she wrote-off Jack and she’s done? Make the discrete visit to “Cirrostrati” and see what fate does? Or will she boldly look him up with River’s help? With some stories, I like for the reader to make up their own mind and this is one of them.
♣ ♣ ♣
Here’s one more tie-in to the past, and this one is about names. Maybe you noticed the word “bedlam” in the story. One of my past blog serials (which was book-ized) was Thistledown, Midsummer Bedlam.
When the serial began, I gave fairy characters names based on a chart I made for readers to “find their fairy names.” River was a name for Olga. River was best friends with the main character, Bedlam. I borrowed from that story to name the two character friends here, River and Béda (for Bedlam). Jack Early was another nod to WKRP. In one episode, Dr. Johnny Fever took on another name, Heavy Early.
Wishing you a wonderful weekend. I love to hear from you, so friendly comments are encouraged. Hugs!
♣ ♣ ♣
Of course, there’s the obligatory shameless self-promotion…
Universal Purchase Links
Kindle: relinks.me/B082RFN9GF
Paperback: relinks.me/1675233632
♣ ♣ ♣
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 and 2024 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
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Teagan's Books 
I remember “WKRP in Cincinnati.” I didn’t watch it much though and don’t remember why – probably work or school or something. Great story, Teagan, and lots to reminders about my olden days. I hope Beda goes for it. If she doesn’t try, she’ll always wonder. Cute pic of Velma too. ❤
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Velma (the Red Wiggler) sends a purr. She’s busy playing Meow-O Polo right now. The game begins whenever she hears me typing… Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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Hugs back
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Loved this, Teagan! I was a big WKRP fan (the turkeys!). Bond also does that fish flopping thing in the hallway sometimes, lol.
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OMG, the turkey episode! It still slays me.
Yes, that flopping — usually right in front of my feet, to force me to bend and pet her. Then the wiggle begins so that I have to work harder at the pets, ensuring she gets more. LOL. She’s busy playing Meow-O Polo right now. The game begins whenever she hears me typing… Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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WKRP! Bring back the classics!
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It really was a well done show — acting, writing, directing… Thanks for visiting, Mark. Hugs.
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this is such well written and detailed story.
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Many thanks, Mirhan. Have a wonderful new week. Hugs.
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Nice story. For me, both radio and TV take me back to my childhood days. Back then, we had one channel on television and radio each but the content was so good. One of my favorite radio hosts passed away recently and I did write about him on Facebook. Today, the content is just at its all-time low which is why I do not have a radio or TV in my apartment.
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Thank you, Sharukh. I saw your Facebook post. What a life he had. When I was a kid, we got 3 channels, heavily censored by the local broadcasters. So the number of network shows we saw were limited. It was mostly reruns of a few different shows, old situation comedies, and even older westerns. Of course there were the daytime soap operas. We seemed to get all of those.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs to you and Sarah.
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WKRP in Cincinatti takes me back a few decades! Thanks for sharing one of your previous writings.
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Hi, Tandy. There were a lot of good things about that show. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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Excellent story. That show was after my TV-watching days were over, but I remember people talking about it. I wouldn’t trust him, myself. (K)
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Kerfe, you are one of the few who came close to agreeing with the ending I would have given the story. But… that’s why I left it open. It doesn’t diminish me to let readers supply the kind of ending they’d like, once in a while. 🙂 Many thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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I like endings that are open. It gives me something to think about.
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Beda, go. GO. You will always wonder if you don’t go. You need to find out. This was terrific, Teagan. Please say there is more to come!!!
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Hi, Jennie. I’m afraid that was just a “one off” story from two years ago. But I’m delighted you enjoyed it. …Although, “WKR3” could show up as a setting again. Hmmm…. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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Please know your “one off” story can go far. Really. Maybe WKR3. Just sayin’. 😍
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Vintage Vignettes is a great idea, Teagan. I love it!
I remembered that red wigglers thing, once I played the clip.
I like the short a lot, and yes, your tie ins are spot on. (Olga’s shots are fab)
In the end:
Nothing, because she wrote-off Jack and she’s done!
(but that’s really me, isn’t it!)
Big HUGS!
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Thanks so much, Resa. I’m so glad somebody agreed with what I would have done for the ending. (And we wonder why we’re moving backward as a gender…) The truth is, I knew what kind of ending most people would want, and I simply couldn’t stomach writing it. Not two years ago when I wrote the story, and not now. As you said, “but that’s really me, isn’t it!” Hugs winging back to you.
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Hahaha!
Birds of a feather!
Hugs!
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Thank you Teagan for a visit back in the past. I enjoyed your vignette. Your cat, Velma is adorable, so alert….she looks deep in thought relaxing in the photo.
Loved the references to the old boom box and 80’s TV Shows…all made me smile. Great share and best of regards for other posts in the series. Great idea!!
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Suzette, I’m so happy that you enjoyed this. Velma thanks you. LOL, if she is deep in thought, then it’s thoughts about how she can harass me next… Usually whenever she hears the sound of me typing. 🐱 Big thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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A pleasure Teagan. Have a good one!
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Happy Saturday! Little Velma is a cute kitty! Yes, I remember your Thistledown story. It was a good one, and I did notice the ‘bedlam’ in this story. I liked it a lot. We used to watch that TV show, too. Oh, the Tang pitcher … I have one still! 🙂
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Hi, Barbara. It gave me a huge smile that you remember (and liked) Thistledown.
How fun! Olga gave me the Tang pitcher as a random reader thing. It’s funny how Tang is such a strong memory for so many of us. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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A very enjoyable post from beginning to end! I’d forgotten about WKRP, although I watched it regularly. I think Béda looks up Johnny Fever, definitely. How could she not?
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I’m delighted you enjoyed it, Liz. LOL, that’s a big reason why I left the ending open. I wouldn’t have her go chasing after a man who dumped her without a word, and then couldn’t even try to apologize. No. But that’s why I don’t write romances. She might have him back if he was humble enough… after she had thrown a sufficient number of rocks at him. LOL.
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Rock-throwing seems like a good course of action in this situation. 😉 I think Béda’s motivation to look him up is more curiosity than anything else.
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I enjoyed that old clip from WKRP in Cincinnati. We used to watch that when it was on.
I hope you have a great week-end too, Teagan.
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It was such a great show, Deborah. Happy weekend back to you. Hugs.
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🤗
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A fun loving and thrilling story Teagan. Loved your cat she is looking beautiful. The video was super too. Thanks 😊🤗
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I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Kamal. Velma says ‘Thank you.’ Wishing you a brilliant weekend. Hugs.
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Thank you dear Velma. Wishing you too a wonderful weekend Teagan. Lots of hugs 🤗🤗🤗
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What a great story – it gave me goose bumps, Teagan! And OF COURSE she needs to look the guy up! I would.
And as for WKRP, that was one of my favorite shows!
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It’s fun to see how many people loved WKRP. It had such great, well-developed characters, and the actors played their parts perfectly.
I’m delighted you enjoyed the story. Haha, that’s why I left the ending open. If a man who had dumped me without a word showed up years later, I’d probably throw rocks at him. Hugs to you and Garfield.
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I am incorrigibly curious – I would want to know what had happened to him!
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I love seeing the photos of the radio station. I can imagine the the DJs and their guests discussing topics of the day on the radio shows we used to listen to when we lived in Spain. Our last boom box was an Apple iBoom. You put an iPod in it and it filled the room with great sound. Did you ever see Taking Heads “Stop Making Sense” movie from 1984? It starts with “Psycho Killer.” David Byrne walks on stage, sets a Boombox down, says “I want to play you a song!” and hits play on the boombox. Then we preforms “Psycho Killer” playing guitar, accompanied by the boombox. It’s brilliant. https://youtu.be/uTezUIuJHTw?si=7ggDkUvyP0LYlpxL
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Thanks for the link, Tim. That’s a great video. I know the song and know of the movie, but haven’t seen it. No, I’ve never felt I could invest in any of Apple’s stuff.
Olga describes her roles at the radio station in part of her “About” page.
http://www.sants3radio.cat/historia.php
And here’s the Sants 3 link if you missed it. http://www.sants3radio.cat/historia.php
Thanks for visiting. Hugs.
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Thanks for the links Teagan. Sants 3 Ràdio started while we were in Spain. As you may know we’ve used Apple products from the first Macintosh and I got Laurie one of the first iPods available. Before the iPod, I had an elaborate setup that automatically recorded late night radio programs like Art Bell’s Coast to Coast AM on cassette tape, and she played them on a Walkman (remember those?) while she worked in the garden during the day. The iPod was revolutionary and made my process of recording streaming shows much easier before Podcasts were available. Once shows started doing podcasts, it was easy peazy. We all have to choose between the companies we believe to be the lesser of the evils in the tech world. And they all are the epitome of evil, IMHO.
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Ha. I’ve always expected futures contemplated by writers like Philip K. Dick where corporations rule the world. It seems more likely all the time. I have no gripe with Apple’s i products. They’re just too rich for my blood. For me, they would be a luxury that I can’t justify.
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The cost is relative these days. The new Motorola phone Tristan got a few months ago was $999.99, the same price as the new iPhone 15.
A year and a half ago, Laurie and Tristan got new phones at the same time. Tristan’s Google phone was only $200 less than Laurie’s iPhone 13. However, Laurie got $400 as part of a promotional trade-in for her 4-year old iPhone SE ($100 more than what we paid for it) when she traded it in on the iPhone 13. They wouldn’t take Tristan’s two-year-old Google phone in trade on the new Google phone. They said it had no value, and there were no promotional trade-ins on Google phones.
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I’m making sure The Mister sees this post. He loved WKRP. 😀 Not that I don’t, it’s just I don’t remember it real well.
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Haha. I’m showing my age, Kymber. Though I’ve been a redhead for a long time, my natural hair color is light blond. I always hated it, partly because of people being relentless with dumb blond jokes. As a teen I loved that the Jennifer character was a very smart blond. Thanks for visiting. Hugs.
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I LOVED WKRP! That Red Wigglers jingle was one of my favorite bits. lolol And, as you know, MIDSUMMER BEDLAM is one of my favorite books. I remember that story referencing WKRP. Thanks for the repeat. I’m not crying, you’re crying.
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It was such a great show. Thanks for reading and commenting, Marian. You made my day about the book. Hugs.
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I enjoyed WKRP Cincinnati a lot. I was also a DJ in college and in the early 90s. The photos and story brought back some wonderful memories. Now to my version of the ending. Wisely, Béda decided to let Jack do the contacting. He finally got up the nerve and came to visit. They shared a cup of coffee and the realization that time had moved beyond their ability to recast the past. They are still friends and meet once a year for a catch-up session.
I enjoyed your story and thinking about the broadcast experience.
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John, I love the ending you wrote. *That’s* a happy ending if you ask me. One reason why I left it open was that I knew most people would think she should go chasing after him, despite the fact that he dumped her without a word. There was no way I was writing that. Like I say: I write fantasy because romance is too farfetched. LOL. I had forgotten about your DJ work. I’m glad to have brought good memories with this bit of retro. Big hugs.
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I agree on that chase the guy ending. YUK. Thanks, Teagan.
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I loved that show, WKRP Cincinnati. Thanks for the memories.
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It was one of the best of all. Thanks for visiting, Darlene. Hugs.
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👍😉
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🙂 ❤
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She goes, Teagan, she goes. What the heck, why not go? It’s amazing the things that bring us back to a moment or move us toward a decision. I think that’s why this story is relatable.
Also, the instant I saw ‘bedlam’ I was called back to Thistledown, Midsummer Bedlam. I was Carver Eastdoor, but only because you took pity on me when your Facebook post gave me a crummy name. I remembered Carver, but I had to scan the book quickly to find my last name.
Vintage Vignettes is a cool name for a somewhat random series. I wish you good luck with it.
I hope you have a wonderful easy weekend.
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Haha. Yes, there were several people that the “fairy names” just didn’t fit, Dan. It was fun to figure out what would work as names for you and them. Yes, Eastdoor was for your Thursday Doors.
Thanks for reading and commenting on this first installment of Vintage Vignettes. Hugs.
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I’m looking forward to more.
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😻😻😻
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❤ 🐱 ❤
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My pleasure 🙏❣️
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Cool story and lovely shot of Velma.
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I’m happy you enjoyed it, Fraggle. Velma says thanks. The light here is so intense that it’s hard to get a good shot of them. I actually had to adjust the shadows and highlights on that one to bring it out. Hugs. 🐱
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Thanks, Teagan. It was lovely to re-read the story again. You can go places with a few images and a song, for sure! Oh, and Velma is quite the character! Thanks for the shout-out as well! Have a lovely weekend! ♥
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Hi Teagan, did you publish the earlier story. I seem to remember reading a version of this before. I enjoyed it very much and thank you for the explanations of the names. I would not have made the connections even to the TV show which I never watched. Great to see a short story from you.
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Robbie, I’m showing my age with WKRP. Actually, I have no idea how much (if any) of it was franchised to other countries.
Yes, I posted the same story two years ago when I was doing “Shorts for the Weekend.” It came back to me with the radio-related thoughts, and I decided to rerun it.
Huge congrats on your latest book of poetry. Hugs.
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Teagan, a fun and engaging story which captured my imagination this morning! Béda Is now in a quandary of what to do … and love how you leave it up to the reader to decide the ending. Haha! I remember the boomboxes very well and received my first and only one upon graduation as a present – it has even twin tape decks and a CD player! 😀 Wishing you a lovely weekend, Teagan!
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How fun, Annika. I’m happy I could bring up a good memory for you. I actually never had a boombox, although I was in the right age range to have. I guess they just seemed inconvenient to me. Isn’t it amazing how small everything can be and produce such sounds now! I enjoyed your comment. Many thanks for reading. Hugs.
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