GET SERIOUS (KARMAZIN KARMA?)

I was in my office at KHJ when Colonel Tom Parker called. It was 1968. I first met Colonel and his client, Elvis Presley, in 1957. That was at then-new KHVH, which was located at the top of the tallest building in Hawaii, the Hawaiian Village Hotel. When Presley arrived, Tom Moffatt and I pulled a stunt -- "The First Elvis Impersonator" -- that cracked up Colonel and Elvis. Moffatt and I emceed EP's concerts the next day. And we remained close friends with Colonel for the rest of his life.

So I wasn't surprised when Colonel called me. What did blow my mind was that Elvis was about to do a NBC-TV special, the one now known as "The 1968 Comeback Special." And two talented guys were involved: Steve Binder, hot young director, and Bones Howe, record producer with a string of hits.

That show, inside a drab Burbank studio, was as great as any live Elvis performances I'd seen. I sat with my wife in the second row, but on replays of that show the only crowd shown is the teenage girls who were there, 30 feet from Elvis, watching everything and screaming and freaking out appropriately. It was a Great Hollywood Memory, one I knew would have a lasting impact.

Now, 41 years later, the black leather-clad Elvis has reappeared in what has to be one of the best examples of why Sirius Radio has never caught on: A serious lack of creative imagination while focusing on the technical (satellite radio -- wow!) and ignoring the BASICS of radio, regardless of the means of transmission.

It is bad enough when one's favorite NFL team has won but one game this year. I am a deranged fan of the St. Louis Rams. That's a vestigial remnant of the comp tickets that came with my job at KHJ. In fact, I've never missed watching a Rams game in the decades since I first saw them play in the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. I've seen the team play in Super Bowls, winning one and losing two in frustrating fashion. And, as any hard core NFL fan knows, losing SUCKS.

So the last thing I need during football timeouts is the preposterous Sirius commercial that seems to pop up with a much greater frequency than, say, touchdowns scored by the Rams this season. They are the lowest scoring team in the league this year.

The first time I was aware of the "Change The Way You Listen" Sirius commercial was during a Rams game last month. Well, I only heard it, since I was in the kitchen, reloading up on chips and dip. Cool, I thought. Elvis during time out, nice. But, why not the original version of "All Shook Up"? I must have spun that record hundreds of times when it came out in early 1957, instantly hitting #1 on all the charts. After that I played the record many, many more times on other stations as a jock, and later as Program Director.

The next time the pretentious Sirius spot came on I actually saw it. WTF? How weird that a radio service -- a medium that provides SOUND -- has no audio on the TV spot? Somewhere there must be an Advertising 101 dictum that television spots have some supporting spoken words, or at least a jingle, stating the sponsor's name -- and, of course, the message.

The PR for this spot, released on November 15, 2009, stated: "Sirius XM Radio Inc. has unveiled their latest TV ad, which CEO Mel Karmazin labels as the "most aggressive brand marketing campaign" in the company's history."

Well! As asked in the title of the Les McCann and Roberta Flack hit. "Compared To What"? It is easy, I guess, to present "the most aggressive brand marketing" in a company's history when there has been little notable, effective advertising by that company since inception. In fact, the most I'd ever seen or heard about Sirius was on automobile ads for cars that included a satellite radio.

But, what else to expect from Mel Karmazin? He is one of the many broadcasting "executives" to make a name in the biz as a wheeler-dealer, Money Man, the type who never leave a "creative legacy." (Sure, there were influential giants in pop radio history, from Gordon McLendon's breakthrough showmanship in the 1950s through the wonderful commercial work in later decades done by Stan Freberg. PS: "If you can't get Freberg, hire Chuck Blore." Yeah, my hero, Blore, had more oomph, oompah and out-loud laughs in one of his KFWB promotions than anything to air on "satellite" radio).

Karmazin's claim to programming smarts seems to be his groupie-like admiration for Howard Stern. And the result of that? Stern moved from terrestrial radio to "satellite" and lost much of his audience, those not inclined to PAY to hear something that had been FREE all their lives.

More pompous are the claims made in the half-minute waste of time that is that current Sirius TV spot. Elvis, in leather, opens with the over-produced version of "All Shook Up," which plays for the duration. Then, action shots of Michael Jordan, photos of Richard Pryor and a final picture of, guess who? Howard Stern. These people are there, the commercial claims, because they "changed," respectively, "Music, Sports, Comedy and Radio."

Let's not get into the first three. No serious student of pop music can deny the influence of Presley. Jordan was a great basketball star -- but how much was he influenced by Dr. J, Julius Irving? Understand, I totally respect Michael Jordan and Richard Pryor. But Pryor's comedic approach didn't emerge in a vacuum. There were folks like Red Foxx, Lennie Bruce, George Carlin and so on whose ingredients contributed to the strange, wonderful antics of Pryor.

Which brings us to Howard Stern. What did he change, other than his daily underwear? Many others, from Todd Storz to Don Imus to Rush Limbaugh to Bill Drake really CHANGED radio, moving its evolution onward and upward from where it was before them. I am not suggesting that one judge these people for any other reason than their impact on radio programming, which was profound.

Imagine radio today, without the work and influence of Imus, Limbaugh, Drake and the dozens of other true innovators who left their mark on the profession. Compare that with a landscape without Stern. Take away the pee-pee kaka, tits'n'ass raves to a studio full of nebbish sycophants and what is there? But then again, maybe it is cool because it is heard on "satellite."

To put this One Schtick Pony in the company of Presley, Jordan and Pryor is an insult to whatever intelligence is possessed by the viewer. Karmazin told the press, "With so much media coverage on our merger and past liquidity, it's time for consumers to hear about our content." CONTENT?

I have only heard Sirius when I stumble past its many channels on Direct TV. It is like a supermarket: Endless variety of product, specializing in nothing. Announcers on pre-recorded voice tracks. Other than Stern, not one recognizable personality on the entire lineup. I could go on for paragraphs itemizing the ELEMENTS that make for compelling radio, which are totally absent on this mishmash of musical genres and drab, anonymous deejays.

If you are a radio pro, or a listener who lived and died by a local station, it is hard to make a "serious" case for Sirius being innovative in ANY way. While Karmazin and crew crow about "branding," the fact is that Sirius has little or no image, no vibrant theme, no singular identity. They have a gimmick, satellite transmission, which is so commonplace in today's media, that it means nothing to the public.

It is no more complicated than this: Would you rather watch a mediocre movie in Hi Def than an all-time classic on "regular" TV? That is the fraudulent premise of Sirius and Karmazin: Technology, according to them, seems more important than content. At least that's my observation.

Listen to an aircheck of the great Jean Shepherd, presenting "talk" radio in wondrous ways. Or check out B. Mitchell Reed doing any of the music formats he mastered. Hey, a random hour of The Real Don Steele or Robert W. Morgan on KHJ has more happening than all the stuff spewed out by Sirius. (I know, there's a huge bias on my part, but I am still waiting for a legit contradiction of the Boss Radio comparison).

As for making an impact on public consciousness (since Sirius is otherwise a financial and ratings flop), I always go by what I hear on the STREET. And as of today I have yet to hear one person mention Sirius, ever.

Of course, it is a huge handicap to "brand" a company with a word that sounds exactly like "SERIOUS." That word is the antithesis of what good radio was, and should be: Fun, live, entertaining, human. inviting participation … you know, what we old-timers call THE BASICS. They are present in all forms of show business. But not on Sirius.

And certainly not in the TV spot that proclaims Karmazin's baby will, "Change the way you listen." Last time I checked, people listen with their EARS ... and react ... with their heart.

THE MICHAEL JACKSONS

I first heard Michael Jackson on the radio in the early 60s in San Francisco and later in Los Angeles. He was erudite, sophisticated and verbally skilled. Not unusual for one born in the United Kingdom. But what made this Brit unusual was that he was a first generation "talk radio" host.

Jackson began broadcasting when Rush Limbaugh was barely out of diapers (if indeed the man has ever stopped wearing them). In 1972 the fat and fatuous Limbaugh was a Top 40 deejay hiding behind the air name of "Jeff Christie." That same year Jackson was riding high on top-rated KABC, Los Angeles. This lead to national syndication and critical accolades.

It took 15 years of kicking around--in and out of radio--for jumpin' "Jeff" to become raucous, rowdy Rush. Meanwhile mellow Michael Jackson's philosophy of, "You do not have to be rude to be successful," was validated by rising ratings and revenue.

My career intersected with Michael Jackson's in early 1965. Since then much has been said and written about KHJ's "Boss Radio" format, which we launched in the spring of '65.

Few facts remain of what was on-air, kicked off by our new crew of Boss Jocks. Dig it: The Real Don Steele replaced Michael Jackson. Robert W. Morgan took over mornings, displacing a breakfast show broadcast live from Mr. and Mrs. Steve Allen's breakfast nook in Beverly Hills.

Those days radio comprised a large, lexical, living landscape. There was space enough for all ... and the bigger and better things yet ahead for Jackson, Steele, Morgan, and the Allens. All of them would be honored with "stars" on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Michael Jackson's cement tribute is at 1541 Vine Street between Selma and Sunset.

There are some who would say that Rush Limbaugh deserves to be walked, or even spit, on. To those who oppose his views, saliva is insufficient street scum to suit his sensibilities.

In candor, Morgan and Steele were not saints. They could be kicked around for some of their stunts--the behind the scenes kind. Alas, there is no Limbaugh to stomp on along these Show Biz Boulevards. You see, one must be judged big enough in Hollywood to be awarded a piece of such prestigious pavement.

Of the 2400-plus such honorees, Rush would be listed between Liberace and Linkletter. But Limbaugh appears to have fallen between the cracks (which is not to equate rock cocaine with Oxycontin for those keeping, uh, score).

If one reads the tabloids, watches Entertainment Tonight or is a TMZ blogee, there is no lack of connection between some stars embedded in the sidewalk and those indicted for walking on the wild side of the law. To have one's fame celebrated on a slab fronting a bar is one thing. Spending life behind bars in not nearly as glamorous.

This brings us to that other Michael Jackson. You know, the singer/dancer from the Neverlands. He died Thursday ... along with Farrah Fawcett (of the Angels) and Sky Saxon (of the Seeds).

Fitting. There were things both angelic and seedy about the late, lamented Michael Jackson. He of the white glove and reconfigured face earned not one but two Hollywood stars. Being a member of the Jackson Five qualified him for this double dip. Sorry, but being Elvis Presley's son-in-law didn't earn him a third.

The Walk of Fame star saluting the Michael Jackson who has hijacked all media news for days is located in the pedestrian path fronting "World Famous" Grauman's Chinese Theater, which was prepping for a flashy opening on Friday night, June 26, 2007.

The flick, "Bruno," had a scene in which the lead character conducts a mock interview with Michael Jackson's sister, La Toya. An attempt to obtain Mr. Jackson's cell phone number brought things to a halt when an upset Ms. Jackson up and walked off the set. By late Thursday these events were deemed not fitting. The offensive section was cut out. The splashy opening was delayed. So all day the moon walking Michael's star was covered by scaffolding placed there for the premier.

Thus, a throng of stunned, shocked, grieving fans were left to beat it about Hollywood looking for a spot to place their flowers, cards, candles and other mementos of mourning. I wasn't there. But it must have been a thriller: Tearful fans, held hands on Vine Street, looked to heaven and sang "We Are The World." Only problem is that it was the right song ... for the wrong Mike.

Mega-ditto that!

Michael Jackson, two years older than I, is alive ... alive!

Hoo-ray for Hollywood!