A Little Nostalgia At KUSP FM

I am reaching that stage in life when the world I knew and grew up in is slowly crumbling. Change is inevitable of course, we know and understand that platitude, but it gets to be a little odd when you realize you are the one at the center of a world where the familiar is dying away.  First movie stars die, that's a bit of a shock especially when youngsters around you have no idea who Peter O'Toole or Paul Newman were. Then institutions that have been the bedrock of some important part of your life suddenly face dissolution...well that's when you understand finally that you are become your parents, the people who mumbled miserably about change and nostalgia and the Past. In the photo below I am not to be found, I was probably buzzing around Santa Cruz on my Vespa trailing a microphone and looking for someone to interview, but I recognize the faces and the names that go with them. KUSP was my life in California in the mid 80s.

This photograph of me hunched over a piece of paper editing my script, preparing to make a call or edit some tape who knows- was taken in the newsroom at the community radio station where I volunteered and then got a job. I had no idea I had any aptitude for the radio which I had always loved to listen to, but KUSP gave me a job and an education. 

Community Radio is a purely American phenomenon, imitated but never replicated in other parts of the world. In a country where government broadcasting is unknown and government funding amounts to pennies per capita the only other answer to get public funds is to ask...the public and as you can see below it was typical on air fundraising in the KUSP studio. Notice the walls covered in indexed discs and CDs as  music was a huge part of the local programming. 

The station was founded in 1972 and the second station manager was the bearded youth seen below. Lance was a remarkable man and still is no doubt, able to bridge the divide between the non conformist youth at the station and the money bags in the middle class business district side of town. It was his diplomacy and passion for local radio that made KUSP the flourishing enterprise it was in the 1980s. It never recovered when he departed to manage larger non profits in the county in the late 80s, and the radio station now is on the brink of bankruptcy and seems likely to vaporize.

For me it was  a place to learn how to live ( I wasn't very good at that in thse days, more so even than today) and my news director Marcia came down from Oregon to teach us how to do the news and she taught me too. It was halcyon time for me chasing news, selling stories to NPR and any other network that would pay me gas money.

The little hippy station that started out life a decade earlier on the harbor front broadcasting from high atop O'Neill's surf shop, was sending stories to the network while bringing NPR and Garrison Keillor to Monterey Bay audiences.

I was at the leading edge of the proliferation of NPR at the station that loved it's local eclectic music programming on 8th Avenue within sight of the Pacific Ocean. Not everyone was  happy with that and as happened at many community stations there was a tussle between the folk, acoustic, modern and Gamelan music crowd and the Serious News People. I sat on the fence because I liked the music and for me it was just one more thing to learn. I had no TV and in between movies I learned about the blues, modern jazz, Celtic music and interviews with performers I'd never have heard otherwise. I went with engineer Larry Blood to live broadcasts from various festivals and froze my ass on cold summer California nights watching the Montery Jazz Festival or the Cabrillo Music Festival listening to sounds I could barely decipher.

It was a time of social ferment as Santa Cruz politics landed firmly in the hands of young university radicals and the old conservative families lost power to the university campus they brought to town in the 1960s. The idea was to give the seaside town a year-round economy by inviting the University of California to build a campus in the redwoods. They succeeded and got themselves Berkeley South, a campus of radical left wing politics...which was great for a cub reporter at the local radio station. There was always stuff to report and people to interview in town and on campus and there were four local radio stations competing. We were a forest of microphones at public events. I had a blast.

On the musical side KUSP had world class musicians volunteering and old radio hands like Genial Johnny Simmons who  spent his working life behind the microphone and knew everything there was to know about music, music history, news and programming. He was Lance's right hand man and as program director struggled to keep the balance between satellite and local programming. I was in awe of him. He used to make these cards for his radio show, the Lost Highway:

And there I was, the local voice of the often despised satellite news shows, riding around town on my Vespa waving my microphone in the face of any who would listen. Looking back it was all seat of the pants stuff and if you tuned in at six after All Things Considered which started at 4:30, you never knew what the hell we would use to fill our half hour of local news. I spent my days madly cutting tape and splicing together my scripts with sound bites and background sounds as taught to me by my editors at NPR and it was all done as fast as possible to meet the inevitable daily deadline.

  

It would be impossible to list the people who made KUSP such a cultural ferment in those years, Peter Feistman was one, a stately German refuge from World War Two and his canary yellow E-type Jaguar, playing classical music immediately after the news:

The beards and bell bottoms of the annual live auction, a community affair at the Old Cooper House, a 19th century courthouse damaged by the 1989 earthquake and wrecked by city indifference. Much laughter, in jokes and weird stuff for sale at those auctions. Laura, Corky and Michael (not me!) grinning madly: 

KUSP had  dozens of volunteers and lots of meetings as a result. It was a kind of pirate ship, democracy in the wild, opinions, votes and discussions all the time. It was exhausting and exciting and we felt we had a real voice in our community filled with opinions and strong beliefs. Slowly the NPR satellite programming gained ascendancy and local music was moved to accommodate an increasing array of canned programs, as the radio chased the dream of a professional on air sound. Dan Garr head on in the picture below in all his hairy glory  I knew as a passionate music programmer and a sailor more avid than I. He died a few years ago and that marks another bourne in my own march towards extinction. These days its not just movie stars who fade, it's people we knew...

I returned to Santa Cruz after a few years in Florida and got a seat on the board of directors at the station but it was clear to me I never would fit back in and the leaders of the new direction had no place for me, now oddly an old timer and representative of a past no longer remembered fondly. My wife and I suggested buying a permanent home for the station in a lull in the spiraling housing costs but that was dismissed as impractical and the massive rent continued to be paid along with an impractical (in my opinion) remodel of the rented premises...We suggested  taking over an AM frequency that was coming available to center satellite programming there and open up a space for local music on stereo FM...to no avail. We quit and ultimately returned to Florida determined to find a city we could live in with warm weather for my wife's arthritis. I even offered to take up doing local news to give KUSP an edge over the rival station in Pacific Grove KAZU which was ascendant... that was a non starter. Happily we came back to Key West, and my wife's joints loved the weather, we liked our friends and our jobs and our warm Florida Ocean. And so it goes.

In those early days KUSP was built by hand, witness Bruce Larsen lending his carpentry skills to the new enterprise at the move to new spacious quarters on 8th Avenue. Nowadays KUSP has something like three quarters of a million in debt and is restructuring which means no more NPR, and hope listeners flock to local music and keep the old dear alive. I wonder though what the likelihood is that a community station with an eclectic bent will survive in a town that likes to parade its eccentric nature but that has yielded on all fronts to gentrification.  Santa Cruz lost the battle to stay weird in my opinion when Silicon Valley executives figured they could telecommute over the Santa Cruz Mountains and live by the ocean. They came in droves with a lot of money and the usual rear guard attempt by artists and hippies to defend their turf lost out to box stores and chains and all the usual stories of change making a place "better."

This isn't a unique or even I dare say rare story in 21st century America, but it is my story. I came to the US from a world where opportunities like these were not available, not even imagined, and I took every advantage I could of living in the Golden State, by the ocean, under the redwoods surrounded by people of greater intellect, great artistry and by far greater commitment to ideals that I sometimes found arbitrary or silly. I never did learn to believe that things happen for a reason, or that chanting or drum playing would liberate my inner self. But I did like being around people who did, they taught me a lot about myself and life. It was an exceptional moment to be where I was and I think many of us have gone through simlar experiences with similar memories.

I wish I could wave  a magic wand and make it all good, and giver KUSP the future it deserves, even as a vanity project, or simply to show the soulless University bureaucrats at KAZU that community radio is best. Maybe I just want KUSP to thrive to remind myself when I go back to Santa Cruz that I once had a very small part to play at 88.9fm and I am a better human being for it.

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Photographs that are not mine own are to be seen on the KUSP Forward page on Facebook and I am sure they will be scrutinized massively by those who remember, putting names to faces and and admiring the views from the antenna atop Mount Toro (the photos were provided by Don Mussel engineer extraordinaire so they tend to have a somewhat engineering bent...).

For my own part I surprise myself when I think back to KUSP and find myself dispatching police in Key West but its not such a stretch I suppose. I find I am more at ease on the police radio, so much so I know my on-air quips annoy the supervisors sometimes but I am a good dispatcher and a sense of humor in the dark midnight hours can be forgiven if I am on point when the shit hits the fan. I miss community radio, but I prefer the pay and benefits and the company in dispatch at night is surprisingly cheerful for a bunch of youngsters who are nowhere near being KUSP- style hippies! I keep my politics to myself as much as I am able but Key West still manages to surprise sometimes with it's determination not to conform. And I am no longer the autistic obsessive I was in the 1980s, I hope, and knowing I have that inbuilt tendency it is easier to control in public view. There is nothing to be nostalgic about here, nothing happens for a reason but the reasons have happened and so far so good. The present is good because of the past.

The People of Duval

This essay first appeared here in August 2013 when I was training a new dispatcher during the day. I was getting up with an alarm clock and working Monday through Friday which I did not enjoy at all. But I did get out into town more often in sunlight. I liked the color and vibrancy of these summer pictures, so just because we have been rained up mercilesly lately they make a nice contrast for me, and most likely would for anyone under snow. In December.

I have said the streets of Key West tend to empty out in August after family summer vacations end, but that is not to say Duval Street is completely empty.

By winter standards when most people see this famous street these crowds are pretty thin. People have time and space to check street side menus and coming attraction boards:

Lunchtime in the Bull has seating to spare...

...and there's plenty of room on the sun drenched Conch Tour Trains:

I was intrigued by this couple taking their pictures with their backs to the iconic landmark. I actually posted this picture on Facebook where GarytheTourist immediately noted the irony.

I hear people say it's "too hot to ride" a phrase that fills me with wonder. Sometimes it's too hot to ridecomfortably but that is an entirely different thing.

Key West is where people ride two wheels to get around, usually rented wheels, bicycles or scooters, and they go home and resume maneuvering their tanks around town and forget the joy of freedom.

I have had a Young Person explain the concept of Coyote Ugly bars which started in New York where being rude is de rigeur because Coyote Ugly was where the schtick was for employees to be rude to patrons. It's surviving in Key West where it adds nothing much to my quality of life. Nor does it detract either.

People watching; I do it walking while some do it seated.

Water adventures on a 90 degree afternoon sound good.

Not too many people to watch just now.

Lots of time to pause and catch up. 23,000 people on a four mile island have lots to talk about.

Have you noticed how people attract people? One stops to look, which doubles and two are stationary then four and pretty soon Conchscooter is at the back craning to see what's what.

This is a permanent display offering raffle tickets for a classic car or a Harley Davidson I believe in an effort to somehow reduce drunk driving. The offer is real, one of my colleagues was once the proud winner of the motorcycle.

Sun worship has its side effects. I'm not sure the picture captures the full leathery effect. He looked like a turtle without its shell, God knows what it feels like to have skin like parchment.

Studying the map, rubbing over-heated feet, a typical day's walk on Duval in August.

I went back to work.

Dangerous Key West

Key West is in ferment -at least those people who have read and passed around this piece of nonsense are in an uproar around town. I have reproduced this piece of garbage masquerading as travel writing in full, from it's place on AOL where it was published in the dim dark recesses of 2010. Why it has popped up now I couldn't say but City Commissioner Clayton Lopez is incandescent with irritation saying the piece targets his constituents. However anyone with a  modicum of knowledge of Key West geography can see in a flash that the cretin who wrote this piece has no idea.

We had quite a lively debate in the 911 center trying to figure out where the country club is, and one of our dispatchers who recently bought a home at the Golf Course was quite surprised to learn she may just have become one Key West's "affluent residents."  That is if the oaf David Roberts mistook the golf course for a country club. As for crime, its true bicycle theft is rampant especially when people fail to lock their machines. The last murder in the city was in 2012 and most violent crime is  drunk people who know each other losing their heads. As readers of this page know I walk the city streets at night at all hours unarmed (except for my camera) and alone. So what this drivel is about...judge for yourself. The photos are mine, the words that making Key West crazy are all his, whoever he is. Try not to bust a gut laughing and if Bare Assets has moved to Truman and Whitehead please let us in the police dispatch center know before too long....

Safe and Dangerous Places in Key West by David Roberts, an AOL Travel Contributor

Posted Sep 14th 2010 03:22 PM

      Key West, Fla., is one of the most beautiful areas to visit in the country. Sitting on the beach watching the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean can only be surpassed by enjoying the view of the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico on the other side of the island. The locals are pleasant and the restaurants fabulous, but under the surface lies a secret that could obscure even the best vacation.

The fact is that some of the more dangerous places in Key West have three times the national average in crime rates. It's certainly nothing to obsess about, but it is wise to use caution and be aware of where you are and what is going on around you at all times when you're visiting.

Here are the safe areas and areas to avoid in Key West. 

Safest areas

One of the top three safe places in Key West is one of the first areas you will come to as you cross the Overseas Highway, or Highway 1, on the west side of the highway. The Key West Country Club and some residential areas are statistically the safest areas on the Key. This is the area where the more influential Key West citizens reside. As such, the security is handled by both the Key West Police Department and local security firms. Feel totally at ease as you play a round of golf at the club, with sounds of the beach lulling you into a false sense of competency for the game.

The second safe area in Key West is right across the highway from the first. It's the area around Stock Island, where the most affluent folks store their yachts. This is the only area in the Keys where you would be as safe in a tent as you would in a locked house. Boyd's Key West Campground is tucked away into a quiet area, and the owners are about as friendly as it gets. The tent lots are rather small, but the pool and other amenities more than make up for it. There are also some RV spaces here, which are occupied by year-round residents, so introduce yourself if you stay as a visitor.

Boyd's Key West Campground
6401 Maloney Avenue
(305) 294-1465

The third well-known Key West safe place is located south on Highway 1 in a two-mile radius around the Southern Keys Cemetery. This is a lovely area to stroll on a nice day, but it is important to note that while this area is one of the safest, its proximity to the most dangerous area is a matter of just one or two blocks. Crossing over Windsor Lane into the area surrounding the Ernest Hemingway Museum puts you right into an area where the crime rate is three times the state per capita rate. These first three "safe" areas will have their incidents as any area in a city would, but at least the statistics are heavily on your side.

Ernest Hemingway Museum
907 Whitehead Street
(305) 294-1136
Hours: Daily 9AM-5PM
Admission: $12 for adults, $6 for children, free for children 5 and under

Areas to avoid

In Key West, drug trafficking is a serious problem, as the area represents an easy route into south Florida. Crossing Windsor Lane south of the Southern Keys Cemetery will put you in an area that looks remarkably like anyone's home town.

Tucked away into the recesses of the mobile home parks and back streets are the main source of Key West's crime problems, the drug trade. Some of the crimes here are dealer-on-dealer or dealer-on-addict crimes, which may account for the increase. For example, in the United States, rapes occur at a rate of 0.32 per 1,000. In this area, rapes occur at a rate of 0.79 per 1,000. The crime index measures the rate of crimes in any area on a scale of 1 to 100, with 100 being the safest areas. This area earns a two on that scale. In other words, 98 percent of areas in the country are safer than this one, making it the most dangerous area in Key West and one of the most dangerous in the nation. Ready to pack yet?

The second area to avoid in Key West is located in the South Street and Reynolds Street neighborhood. This area is situated at the farthest point from both police stations on the Key, and the residents (and bad guys) know it. The police do a great job of patrolling, but it's a pretty big area for them to cover efficiently.

In daylight, this area resembles a quaint, small town with a tropical theme. It "looks" safe. Unfortunately, many of the victims of crimes in this area are visitors. 

This is due to the fact that it's a small island and criminals do not want to be identified, so they prefer to attack those they know will be leaving soon. This area also earns a two on the crime index scale.

The third area to avoid is found around Whitehead Street and Truman Avenue. This area is also a two on the crime index scale. At the center of this area is the Bare Assets nude bar.

If that is your kind of entertainment, park close to the door and remember where you are when you leave at 4AM. There is debate as to whether these types of establishments attract crime, or if they just build in crime-ridden areas. Either way, exercise caution here, especially at night. It is interesting to note that the majority of bars and liquor stores are not located in these "two-rated" areas; they are in the safer areas of town where tourists are generally safe and comfortable.

Bare Assets
1029 Truman Avenue
(305) 296-3979
Hours: Daily 4PM-4AM

All in all, Key West is quite the luxury getaway - as long as you know where you are. Pay attention to your surroundings and take note of these safe places and areas to avoid in Key West, and your vacation will be fun and worry free!

Dangerous Hitchhiker

Meet Samson Ramos  a bass player heard around Key West as part of a group he calls Cool Breeze.  

I met him at about two in the morning in the middle of a massive thunderstorm about half a mile out of Stock Island. It was raining cats and dogs so I had decided it was wet enough to justify driving the car to work for my overtime shift. I figured I would suffer unduly if I got a wet collar or wet socks on the ride in and had to sit for eight hours in damp clothes...anyway that was why I was on Highway One in the Fusion and not on the motorcycle in the rain. And which is why I met Samson. 

 All I saw was a figure in white hauling a huge black guitar on the shoulder so I stopped and he piled in full of gratitude and off we went. He was going to Sarasota (!) for a gig that night and his Key West ride had let him down, no surprise there I suppose. It seemed to me, as rain lashed the car that a ride to Cudjoe wasn't much good so I figured I'd take him to Big Pine but pretty soon I realized I had to get him across the Seven Mile Bridge. Big Pine at 2:30 in the morning has nothing to offer a hitch hiker and in Marathon he had a chance of getting to Florida City to make his back up connection to Sarasota. So off we went.

 It was a hell of a ride in the pouring rain, Samson filling the time with his stories of life on the road, making a living with a guitar, raising children, and grandchildren and chasing the gigs wherever they are, across the US or Europe. 

Yeah man he said, as we prepared to part ways at the Tom Thumb in Marathon shortly after three in the morning. I'm going to be back at Schooner Wharf in a few days, and then the Sunset Grille in Marathon and on and on. I plan to meet up again with him in the New Year.  

The ride home was an empty half hour by comparison, I listened to the BBC droning on the radio and watched lightning light up the western sky over the Seven Mile Bridge making night as day. 

A gypsy, a troubadour, a dangerous independent minded man doing his thing and making the world better one song at a time. No wonder they say picking up hitch hikers is dangerous: they are full of subversive ideas.