One day he walked into the control room with a big smile on his face. He said, "You'll never guess who’s out in the lobby!" He was like a big kid sometimes when he was excited about something. I just looked at him for a minute as he stared at me with that big goofy smile frozen on his face. He REALLY wanted me to guess. "Okay," I said finally, "So tell me." He looked at me like a kid on Christmas morning and said, “Jim Morrison of the Doors, that's who." I could tell he really believed it, so I fought hard to hold back my grin. "I want you to interview him right now." I knew I had to burst his bubble. Back then, disc jockeys had some say as to what was played and who was interviewed during their shift.
I had to think of my credibility. Everyone knew Morrison was dead. Ok, so there were some questions. But this guy, whoever he was, wouldn't have the answers. I tried to play it down by asking Joe if the rigor mortis was very bad. He didn't laugh. "Look, Joe, Jim Morrison is dead. He died in Paris three years ago. I don't know who this guy is, but I don't want to give him airtime on my shift." I could see his chins start to quiver as the anger started to surface. "If you don't interview him...your replacement will."
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