Ramble with Storm: Wild vagaries of this winter & mating seasonContinue reading.
Ramble with Storm: Wild things, Larry Lujack & Steve Dahl
I remember pulling for Steve Dahl to come back in the studio and kick the ass of Larry Lujack.
I was just going to bed last night when word came over the radio that Lujack, one of the greatest DJs of all time and given his proper due by Dave Hoekstra in this piece in the Sun-Times, had died.
My first thought was of the time when Lujack came into the studio during the Steve and Garry Show. There is an interview with Les Grobstein, one of the few to witness it, posted here, that captures the feel of it.
I just remember having Steve and Garry on as usual as I prepared for work. I was working the second shift in my first year of living in Chicago. It was 1985.
All of a sudden, there is some sort of melee and Lujack is broadcasting their show and Dahl did not come back in the studio. At first, I thought it was a radio bit, then I realized it was legit.
As Grobstein said in his interview, “It wasn’t a bit. It wasn’t fake.”
And I thought, “Damm, this is a tough exciting town.”
My other memory of Lujack, going back to when I was a kid, was “Animal Stories.” Apparently it was a syndicated bit, because I picked it up on our local radio stations in eastern Pennsylvania.
Anybody, who writes about animals, even tangentially, has brushes with “Animal Stories.”
“Are they going to be OK, Uncle Lar?” is the tagline from Lil’ Tommy that is a burden for all of us who write or report animal stories.
More animals than I expected this morning, one with a spectacular sunrise, a red dawn promising rain or something later on.
A mourning dove flushed on the west side of the south old clay pit. A gray squirrel ran around the trees around the east side of the south pit. A few Canada geese could be heard on the lake to the west.
Surprisingly, it did not look like there were any fresh ice-fishing holes on either pit.
Back in town, the bank thermometer read 37 degrees, nearly 30 degrees warmer than in recent days.
Back home, a gray squirrel ran up the neighbor’s maple and the meathead did not even see it. Funny what you miss when you are not expecting it.
I think the squirrel will be OK, Uncle Lar.