The Glowing Green Crystal


Christmas time at age eight is when I saw TV commercials advertising the ‘Say It-Play-It’ tape recorder. The ads showed you could record your voice or a song on a weird looking yellow plastic cartridge stuck in a small red console and listen back to it. I had to have this! In 1969, this was mind blowing technology. The tape cartridge was smaller and shaped different than traditional cassette tapes. Once it was in my hands I couldn’t get enough of my tape recorder. I’d record conversations at the dinner table, tell jokes into it, sing along to records, track audio of TV shows, you name it, I taped it and played it back.

(pictured above- The Say-It Play-It Tape Recorder) 

 That recording magic in the “Say-It Play It” was the genesis of my love and quest to work in media. To me it was what the glowing green crystal was to a young Clark Kent in the “Superman” movies. You know the story, a teenage Clark finds a green crystal that appeared to call out to him and it starts him on the journey to find out who he is and why he’s on the planet Earth.

My recording devices progressed from the Say-It-Play-It to a small reel to reel tape recorder with hand held microphone and then a basic cassette tape recorder. I also had free reign of my sister’s stereo and by age twelve tuned into and recorded radio shows hosted by a sarcastic sounding afternoon disc jockey named Larry Lujack on WCFL AM 1000.


Larry Lujack didn’t sound like your typical every day radio host. If he didn’t like a record, he’d say so. When he thought some celebrity was a nitwit, he nailed them or when a listener wrote a silly letter to him, he’d mock it with his “Clunk Letter of the Day.” I liked Larry’s sarcasm and found his bemused attitude aligned with mine. Larry’s name and face was all over Chicago for many years during his stints at WCFL and WLS AM 890. Billboards, newspaper ads, TV commercials, movie theatre public service advertisements helped make Larry a major presence. Most everyone in the Chicago area, age forty and under woke up to Larry Lujack and knew him well. He was smart enough to trademark his moniker of “Super Jock” so that no other radio host could use it. (Stealing names and bits is commonplace in the radio business.) Larry even released a book about his life aptly titled “Super Jock” which was co-written by local newspaper columnist Dan Jedlicka.

If I loved radio by listening at home or in the car and got hooked on the line by watching shows unfold in the WLS studio viewing area, then hearing Larry Lujack say on the air, “Here’s a story sent to us by Mick Kahler” had me reeled on the boat, in the bucket and over to the skillet, hot to make a career in broadcasting. Most people who work in radio can attest to the draw of that first time their name is said on the air or they actually get to speak on air via a phone call with an on air jock. It’s an acknowledgement of you and your contribution to a show. Forget about it! I heard the siren’s song and was a radio goner.

Larry Lujack, the king of morning rock n roll radio in Chicago

I sent Larry a great “Police Beat” item from my local paper about a guy who was arrested for sniffing other people’s toes. Lujack tried to be serious when reporting the police blotter stories but my toe sniffing tale cracked him up big time. Another time Larry read a letter from me inviting him to join Willie C and me at a Ramones concert. I sent the offer because he said he liked the punk band. I knew Larry would never say yes but thought he might read the invite on the air. He did. I managed to catch some of my on air mentions on tape and with each hit of recognition I got, I could feel myself getting closer to finding my own version of radio nirvana.