Well, 100.1 is the frequency of a local radio station, C100FM. I thought I'd show you some pictures of me with some local radio people. Lots of fun and good times.
Here is a picture of me with Frank Cameron. It was taken in May of 2001, when his radio station, CHNS (then 960 on the AM dial, and now 89.9 on FM and called Hal FM) was celebrating its 75th birthday. Their first major home was at the Lord Nelson Hotel i
n Halifax, and that is where the party was. Their most famous home had to have been on Tobin Street, though. When I moved to the city in 1988, they had already left that space and moved to 1313 Barrington Street, at the corner of Barrington and Morris Street. They were there for about 10, 11 years before moving to Sackville Street, where they over look Halifax Harbour. I am told that the Tobin Street location, where they had been for decades, was a pretty special place. After they vacated it, it became the home of the Maritime Business Academy (what was the name of the lady who ran the joint? Can't remember) before that business went belly up, and the building itself was razed to accommodate an apartment building. A little sad.
But that weekend in 2001 was pretty neat. They brought back as many of their old staff as possible to discuss the old times. I taped as much of it as possible, and still have it.
Cameron began his career, if memory serves, at CKEC in New Glasgow. He's a Pictou County boy who was friends with Patricia's uncle. One story goes that Frank and Patricia's uncle wanted to play floor hockey in what's his name's kitchen, so they attached Fuller brushes to their shoes, smeared lard all over the kitchen floor and whipped out their hockey sticks and proceeded to play hockey, right there in the kitchen.
Cameron settled in Halifax at CHNS before spending 30+ years with the CBC. Upon his retirement from the CBC in 1996, he went back to CHNS where he remained until his retirement (forced, some say) in 2005 or so. He still dabbles in radio on weekends by working for free at Seaside FM in Eastern Passage.
This picture was taken on a Saturday morning after a Friday night outing where I had imbibed a little bit. Headache. You know where I'm coming from, I'm sure.
And this picture is me with Anna Z. of Q104. I first heard Anna Z. on the old Rock 103 in Moncton.
That station came blaring through on my stereo at my parents' home in Port Williams, better than Q104 did. Rock 103 became C103, and I think it's Q103 now. What a marvelous station they were, and perhaps still are. A nice variety of rock music that I fondly recall and wish I could listen to here.
Anna left Rock 103 in 1988 I think, shortly after I moved to the city myself. She took a job at Q104, where she remains to this day. Last I heard, she was the music director.
You know something? I have never understood the difference between a radio station's program director, and the music director. I know that a p.d. is responsible for all the content on a station. If a station plays mostly music, why need a music director? Does the m.d. work with the p.d., report to the p.d.? Does the p.d. delegate the selection of music to the m.d.? I just don't understand. I know that at least one local radio person reads this blog, so perhaps she could answer my humble questions. Or, maybe she could (gulp!) ask Anna Z. to respond to this post, and really make my day.
One more unrelated picture, because it's so neat. I see that there will be a service interruption to blogspot in the next 29 minutes or so, so I'll just do this one more picture and call it a night. (It's a night).
I used to watch "Whose Line is it, Anyway?", the improv-like show that used to run on ABC and CTV. I have long been
fascinated by improvisational acting, the type of acting where you have no friggin' idea what the other guy is going to say before he says it; he likewise has no idea what you will say before you say it. If you're doing it right, you probably don't know what you'll say before you say it, either.

I say "improv-like" because there are improv teachers who feel that the kind of improvisation you see on shows like WLIIA is not really improv acting. The actors are prepared in advance; they know that they're going to do, say, a ho down, or a game where they have strange guests at a party, or whatever. Just knowing in advance what game they'll be playing, what the theme will be if you will, is enough to help them prepare, a little bit, for what is to come when the cameras start rolling.
Anyway, I decided to take an intro to acting class in the fall of 2003, as it was a prerequisite to this class, taught by a member of the old Improv Knights troupe that used to work in Halifax on Monday nights. The teacher is in the lower left of the photograph.
I took this class in the winter of 2004, 4 years ago now, and it continued until March or so. This picture was taken at the final class, where we had to invite friends to watch us perform an improv class.
Damn, that class was fun! It was a wonderful contrast from the job I had at the time, which was anything but. From one moment to the next, I'd have no idea what would be thrown at me. One class, we had to pretend that we were hitchhikers being picked up by someone. Each person picked up would have an unusual characteristic, and everyone in the "car" would have to take on that characteristic as well. I chose to be a pirate, and therefore all occupants in the car would have to speak like pirates as well. "Ye eyes be like a flounder's", I heard myself say to a young lady sitting next to me, "and ye hair be like the sea weed that washes ashore on a hot, sunny day!"
Ever since I took that class, I have a respect for the extras in a film or television program. They're the folks who get paid nearly nothing to wait around all day, oftentimes in the mufti befitting the milieu in which the show or film is set. They wait and wait and wait; and then they're called to the set, where they have to sit in the back of the set, saying nothing, perhaps moving their lips in a silent prayer, all while playing their characters, all while not looking at the camera, all while not upstaging the main characters in the scene, all while being, well, set dressing. It is not an easy thing to do, and this acting class taught me that. I don't know why anyone would want to do it. When they shoot a film or show in Halifax, there is no shortage of starry-eyed yokels who queue up to be an extra. I wonder how many of those people do it more than once?
Ever since I took that class, I have a respect for the extras in a film or television program. They're the folks who get paid nearly nothing to wait around all day, oftentimes in the mufti befitting the milieu in which the show or film is set. They wait and wait and wait; and then they're called to the set, where they have to sit in the back of the set, saying nothing, perhaps moving their lips in a silent prayer, all while playing their characters, all while not looking at the camera, all while not upstaging the main characters in the scene, all while being, well, set dressing. It is not an easy thing to do, and this acting class taught me that. I don't know why anyone would want to do it. When they shoot a film or show in Halifax, there is no shortage of starry-eyed yokels who queue up to be an extra. I wonder how many of those people do it more than once?
I am a few minutes away from losing my blog spot connection, perhaps for the evening. I guess that's it for now. I still have some pictures to put up, but they will be for another post on another day.
I hope you have enjoyed my 2 part 100th Bevboysblog post. Please, feel free to post a comment or three. And, the more I posts I write, the more I feel I am just getting warmed up.
Have a good one. See you soon.
Bevboy.