Big Dumb Show
Big Dumb Show is a non-apologetic, four-hour adventure into
the psyche of a bunch of f***in' weirdoes. Two of which, claim
to be professional broadcasters. The others, well, they listen.
And they call. And you can, too. Breaking down the pretentious
walls of "media", Gonzo Greg and Don Stuck obliterate
the barrier between the people that should have control of
the media, and the money-grubbing bastards that actually do.
(Not that there's anything bad about being a money-grubbing
bastard. Particularly if you might be considering giving me
some of the money you "grubbed".) As you make your
way to some evil, twisted little job, busting your ass for
"the man", Gonzo opens the phones and talks to you
about things that are IMPORTANT. Like, boobs. And booze. And
was born to hippie parents and spent most of my childhood
stuck in the back of a VW Microbus inhaling second-hand pot
smoke on the way to folk festivals and love-ins all over New
England. (Naked baby in the mud puddle at the original Woodstock?
That's me.) When I was about eight, my dad, who owned a motorcycle
shop, took me to visit a radio station in Boston so he could
buy some radio ads for his alleged "business". There
was this long-haired freak, sitting in a studio on the top
floor of the tallest building in the city, lights turned down
low, smoking a fat joint and listening to music with some
slut on his lap. It was at that moment I realized that this
was the kind of job I could really be good at.
my sites firmly set on a career on radio broadcasting, I diligently
set about developing a wide array of anti-social behaviors,
poor grooming, and profoundly poor study habits all the way
through most of high school, which, thanks to a bizarre set
of family circumstances, ended up being in Los Angeles. After
the obligatory massive teenage parent vs. offspring fight
to end all fights, my dad tossed me out on my ass, and I spent
my early adult years essentially homeless, living with friends
and out on the streets of Hollywood.
no place to live sucks. Although, if you're going to do it,
do it when you're young, and do it in a warm climate. The
upside for me was that the timing was perfect. While my peers
were dragging their asses to chemistry class everyday, I was
coming home from witnessing the birth of the punk and new
wave scene in LA. Black Flag, Circle Jerks, X, The Adolescents,
Red Kross, The Dickies ... so many great bands were exploding,
and everyone knew that the face of rock music was about to
meet with the heel of an angry combat boot.
eventually returned to an institution of semi-higher learning
(Community College) so that I could become an intern at my
favorite radio station. I started off as the station's whipping
boy, and after several years of getting continually crapped
on, I finally got to be the morning DJ. Of course, not before
they threw out all my favorite punk music and changed the
station to "hair metal".
... long story short ... as much as I despised "heavy
metal", it did start my career, and it was a great time
for meeting hot chicks who liked to f***, so a big "Thank
You!" to Motley Crue and all your big-haired brethren.
After that, Nirvana broke, music changed back to being cool
again, and I ended up working at radio stations all over the
country (Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Louisville, San Bernardino,
Detroit) before I ended up here in Indianapolis in 2000.
Jolie, not Pam Anderson.
and Sally, not Tom and Katie.
not Superman. But Wonder Woman. Oh, yeah!
not Nike. Even though Nike now owns Converse.
unique. Be weird. Be you.