Last year, I got into a taxi with a driver who had the dial set to my favorite local radio station. Complimenting his taste in community broadcasting immediately provoked a convoluted story about a 2002 federal raid on a pirate station that he ran in Berkeley.
The gist of this guy’s story was that he’d been transmitting something that the federal government deemed to be incendiary material, so a dozen armed U.S. Marshals showed up and confiscated all of his gear. Long after he’d name-dropped John Ashcroft and dropped me off at my destination, this detail was enough to help me track down at least one story about this surreal incident.
I’ve been thinking about that pirate radio cabbie this week as Bay Area residents hunkered down in shelter-in-place mode, and not just because my apartment overlooks a now mostly empty cabstand.
Outgoing friends in precarious situations have been reaching out, clearly alarmed at the protest of endless self-quarantining. As an only child, a self-employed writer researching a book about another pandemic and its historic protests, and a disaster preparedness volunteer with the fire department, I am built and well-trained for the practicalities, if not the economics, of a catastrophe. Days and even weeks of mostly uninterrupted time to read, think, and be alone would feel like my birthright if the circumstances weren’t so grotesque.
In addition to tips on where to beachcomb or what to read, I offer anxious extrovert friends my best general-purpose introvert advice, ideas for living well in solitude that I often don’t even think of as tips so much as deeply ingrained lifestyle choices.
Listen to the radio. Specifically, community radio. Specifically, KPOO 89.5 FM here in San Francisco.
Noncommercial radio stations live on your FM dial at and below the 91.9 frequency. Some of these stations operate in the service of religious institutions, and there are still a handful that serve as true local interest hubs, much like community access television offers hyperlocal programming that may include broadcasting city meetings, reporting on underserved communities, and lately, public service announcements about unemployment benefits and disaster loans available during mandatory COVID-19 closures.
Local programming has so long been a blissful, savored part of my everyday life that I sort of forget this is actual counsel worth offering. How much of my life is arranged around radio program guides at this point? Does that sound ridiculous or brilliant in 2020?
If it sounds silly, ask yourself: what do we have if not community stations? What does it mean to have staying power if we can’t even get 270 watts of power to the people?
You don’t have to invest in a fancy setup, but I’ll tell you as an aside that I have a tabletop radio, which is what they’re called now, as opposed to tinny kitchen tuners or worksite radios, which are basically boom boxes encased in silicone scaffolding, built to withstand being dropped off a crane.
Anyway, in my two-plus decades of variously being an on-air DJ and tuning in when it isn’t my job to run a small station, I can promise that if you feel like having other people around but can’t be in the same room, there is really nothing like listening to a volunteer DJ on the radio, cueing up tunes in real time, often playing actual vinyl, record skips and all.
On Mondays, Mr. Ford drives over from the East Bay to play funky soul and sound off about his frustration with the added congestion caused by Uber and Lyft. (My man!) He runs an inviting record shop in Oakland, and this week, he was still working out his feelings about mandatory small business closures while in the studio doing his show. To hear another person explain what these coming weeks of economic hardship will mean was important, a story none of us can hear often enough. Understanding the losses sure to continue mounting should influence our decisions about what to support, and how. (It’s easy to donate to KPOO using the station’s website, and to support the programming, you can even buy a beautiful t-shirt adorned with the design pictured above.)
I connect so deeply with the Uplift! broadcast on Tuesdays that this non-churchgoer has shown up at the Coltrane Church in person, to worship and dance and meditate to “A Love Supreme,” chanting and swaying from 12 noon to 3 p.m., alone together with a small, soulful group of dear listeners.
Wednesday afternoon Wake the Town host and selector DJ Adam has profoundly enhanced my relationship with dancehall and given me a whole new framework for understanding the trajectory of roots reggae and rocksteady.
Every Saturday from 10 p.m. until 2 a.m., KPOO station manager JJ plays four hours of funk, soul, and disco that has me sporadically sliding across my living room floor in one of my giant robes. At one point last Saturday night, twirling around to a Sylvester track, I shouted something to the effect of, “Who can feel sad and alone if they have disco?!” This was several days before everyone seemed to really start freaking out about staying in, and I think my point stands.
Tonight, we’re all in for a special treat. The astoundingly talented DJ behind the Rap Snacks Radio, Kay-Beezy Fa Sheezy, is taking over the KPOO airwaves from 7 to 10 p.m. Do you know the origins of the most recognizable samples underlaying your favorite hip-hop rhymes? You will learn more than a few if you listen in later.
Some people are apparently cueing up video streaming services and watching movies together at the same time. That’s very cool. But if you turn your radio on tonight, you’ll be in sync with me.