JOHN BURNETT-LARKIN
Somewhere in Honolulu:
John: I think the Apprentice-Mentor Program is great – it's a wonderful way to get your foot in the broadcasting door without losing any toes. Speaking of doors, who's that coming through mine? Good grief – it's my mother!
Mom: Hi, Johnny, honey. Be a good boy and take my suitcase.
John: What in the world are you doing here all the way from Iowa?
Mom: Well, you told me about this autobiography you have to write for this
Apprentice-Mentor Program, and who else is better suited to tell about you than your mother?
John: Uh, right. Where's Dad?
Mom: Your father couldn't make it. Something about not wanting to pay an extra $500 for a ticket. He sends his regards.
John: Never mind that. Does he send money?
Mom: No.
John: Mom, I appreciate you coming out here just for me, but I'm 26 years old, I've been on my own for five years now, and besides, I'm married and have a 19-month-old girl. I think I can tell my own story.
Mom: Nonsense! Broadcasting is your bag, bragging is mine. Now you just sit down, don't fidget and let me do the talking. Oh, Johnny's so excited about the chance to get into broadcasting. He's been preparing for a media-related field almost all his life. You should have seen him when he had his paper route – I would feel so sorry for him stumbling out the door at 5:30 every morning.
John: That wasn't stumbling, I was trying not to step in dog stuff in the dark. Anyway, I don't think we need to go that far back.
Mom: All right, then I'll tell them about when you and your friends used to play "radio station." You always insisted on being the newsman. You said the pay was better than being an engineer.
John: Uh, Mom, I think we can skip over that, too. These people want to know what I've done relating to radio – what sort of experiences I've had to prepare me for this line of work.
Mom: Well, how about if I tell them how before you were ever in high school you went to the local radio and television station just to talk to people and get some ideas on planning your future?
John: That's the idea.
Mom: Or, how about the time in high school when the mass media teacher set up
a miniature "radio station" in the school, and when it was your turn at being disc jockey, you put up signs around the school telling everyone to listen to "Big Johnny L?"
John: Embarrassing, but good.
Mom: That was about the same time your creative writing teacher told you that we should give a good kick in the pants in the direction of writing.
John: Yeah. Dad took him literally and punted me over the bookshelf.
Mom: Johnny really is outstanding, verbally speaking. Get it? Verbally speaking.
John: Get to the point, Mom.
Mom: Well, he scored in the 98th percentile nationally in the vocabulary section of the SAT test. He said he might not be able to explain telekinesis, but he could pronounce it.
John: Thanks a lot, Mom. Now we're rolling. Let's tell them about college.
Mom: Oh, yes. That's where you really got some good breaks, starting with working at the campus radio station, often doing solo "rip and read" newscasts. "Rip and read…" what an awful sounding name.
John: Never mind, Mom. Then came the television station.
Mom: Yes. You were asked to work in the news department of the only commercial station in the country owned by a university.
John: You sound like a commercial, Mom.
Mom: You would write news copy, among other duties.
John: Right.
Mom: That's what I said - - write.
John: No, I mean you're right - - and it really taught me to write tight news copy under tight time restrictions.
Mom: And every day, you would make a voice tape of the top news stories, to be played each night at sign-off time. One listener called the station to compliment you.
John: Mom, that was Uncle Ralph. And he kept his hearing aid turned off most of the time anyway.
Mom: And, in addition to all that hands-on experience, you took lots of classes in journalism, telecommunicative arts and speech.
John: Then I got married, moved to Honolulu, and finished college at the University of Hawaii.
Mom: You were so disappointed when you discovered there really wasn't a course called "Bikini Inspection for Credit". But you did do a public relations internship with the Hawaiian Fashion Guild for credit.
John: And, since graduating, I've been involved mostly in sales work, including advertising, cars and books.
Mom: But all the while, ready to pounce on any entry-level broadcasting position to come along.
John: Yeah…when I first moved out here, I used to call up radio stations at random, and inquire about job openings. The first time I got hold of a Japanese language station, it was pretty embarrassing. Here I was, this crazy haole, fresh off the plane from Iowa, trying to explain to the receptionist that I wanted to work for her Japanese- speaking station. And I don't even speak Japanese! Trying to get into the business here has always been a "Catch 22" for me, as it is for many people. You know - - no experience, no job - - but with no job, no experience.
Mom: Very well put.
John: Actually, "Catch 22" is the title of a book written by Joseph Heller. It's often used to describe any frustrating, or "vicious-circle" situation. I've learned that Heller has written two other books, entitled "God Knows" and "Good as Gold". And all three titles taken together reflect the situation I'm in.
Mom: How's that?
John: God knows, I hope my "Catch 22" days are over, and this opportunity will be as good as gold.
Mom: You always did have a way with words. Now please zip up your fly.
Submitted October 24 to:
Mr. Gene D___ K__-AM
Mr. Phillip Trout, Apprentice-Mentor Association
Thank you very much,
Sincerely,
John Burnett-Larkin
