Philip Yancey shares in his book “Vanishing Grace”:

“Mark Rutland whimsically recalls a survey in which…

Americans were asked what words they would most like to hear.

He predicted the first choice: ‘I love you.‘

Number two was ‘I forgive you.‘

The third choice took him by surprise: ‘Supper’s ready.‘”

It dawned on Rutland that these three statements provide a neat summary of the gospel story.”

Unlike other formats people, don’t tune to your radio station because of WHAT YOU ARE. They tune to you because of who THEY are.

After more than 20 years in the format, I’m used to people ignoring me when I share that idea. It doesn’t make sense to them. That’s because they can’t read the label from inside the bottle. And you, my friends, are inside the bottle.

I first loved baseball because my dad loved baseball. In fact, my first game ever was a really big deal – I got to see my baseball hero Mickey Mantle get the first hit in the very first indoor baseball game: at the Astrodome in Houston. My dad simply said, “You should see this.”

I love classical music because my mother was a professional violinist and shared her love for classical music. I loved watching the high school marching band because my daughter played her saxophone in it. I have even learned to bowl (not very well) because a dear friend loves bowling. In fact, he gave me my own bowling ball.

That question probably doesn’t mean what you think. I am not talking about the X’s and O’s that constitute the formatics of your station’s clock.

Let me explain.

“Imagine if you will that one hour never existed. No babies were born. No one died. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!”

Rod Serling

It was an hour that never existed. We changed our clocks from 2am to 3am.

That hour doesn’t matter.

You wait through the first part of a boring movie. You hope it will get better.

You sit down at a restaurant. The waiter is slow to come over. Minutes tick by without giving your drink order. You hope it will get better.

I’m old enough to remember when COVID-19 was the headline of the day.

Then, two weeks to flatten the curve.

Then the vaccines. Then the vaccine mandates.

Then the Canadian truckers.

Now Russia invades the Ukraine.

So, in a format that promises to be positive, encouraging, uplifting, and lots of fun at parties… how do we talk about this noise without breaking our promise?

I could hear the sound of someone leaving a message on the answering machine in the next room. I couldn’t even understand the words she was saying but I could hear her tone. It was the tone of someone who was detached from the meaning of the very words she was saying. “Good afternoon. I’m calling on behalf of…”

There is a tone in someone’s voice when they don’t care about what they are saying. It’s the tone I hear from the flight attendants when they are instructing perfectly capable grown ups as to how to fasten their seat belts or that wearing face masks is mandatory. Even between bites and sips. Look around. No one is paying attention.

To fasten your seat belt, insert the metal fittings one into the other, and tighten by pulling on the loose end of the strap.

It’s a curious thing. A few understand it, but most do not.

And before I point any finger let me just confess that I didn’t understand it either coming from a background in mainstream radio. I didn’t really understand what our format is all about.

Like many today I thought the format was about the music we play, the deejays, and doing radio stuff. After all, that’s radio, right? I had to undergo a process of learning that our format is about something much more important.

We can all remember the first time someone said, “I love you.” (We can also painfully remember when someone didn’t respond that way).

We are created to be known. From the early playground experiences of “Mommy, mommy, look at me,” to the moment you discovered the pretty girl knew your name.

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything.”

Timothy Keller

On last week’s show I shared how a job transition 30 years ago became a learning experience that has impacted my perspective and attitude even decades later.

Some context. My experience at that time included two decades on the air, the latter half at some big stations in big markets, and more recently as the programmer of a top 5 station in a top 5 market. Due to a station sale, I found myself in a role with the new company that was neither specifically on air nor programming. I was glad to have a gig but, if honest, didn’t initially realize the value it would have in my career.

I had a choice. I could either view my skill set in the rear view mirror or I could embrace a spirit of learning; a new format, a new role, and the vision for a new kind of radio station. The choice was made easy for me because of the people and the project. I was surrounded by major market pros and we were learning a brand new format, and we were learning it together.

30 years ago this week I was involved one of the most transformative transitions of my broadcasting career. And the amazing thing is that I didn’t seek it out nor did I initially realize the value it would have in my career. But I was wrong.

Choosing to be a lifelong learner is a great gift to yourself.

I occasionally run across people without a learning spirit. They do what they do and that’s all they want to do. I once worked with a morning man on a CCM station that simply repeated the bits he did on his previous Oldies station.

Whether routed in laziness or fear of the unknown it keeps people stuck, both in skill level and perspective. I think this is particularly challenging for someone who’s been at one radio station for a long time. While longevity certainly has its benefits, I can only imagine what my limited perspective on programming would be if I had spent several decades at my first station, a 500-watt AM station in my hometown in west Texas.

My greatest value to stations is that I’ve just spent time with some of the smartest broadcasters in our format. I see their challenges. I’ve been a part of those conversations. I’ve seen the solutions they come up with and understand the outside perspective.

Every time I’m around smart people they make me better.