November 2010 Archives

Go to savektru.org to write yours. Deadline is December 2 if you live within the KTRU broadcast area, November 29 if you don't.

Dear Commissioners:

I am writing in protest of the proposed license transfer of 50,000 watt Houston radio station KTRU 91.7 FM (and its 91.5 FM translator) from Rice University to the University of Houston System (UHS). (File Nos. BALED-20101029ACX and BALFT-20101029ACY).

I find this proposal this proposal to be contrary to the public interest, for the following reasons:

* It increases consolidation of the limited number of Non-Commercial Educational (NCE) broadcast licenses in the Houston market into the hands of an ever-shrinking group of licensees.

* It drastically reduces the diverse range of educational programming choices, topics, and material available to listeners in the Houston market.

* It eliminates one of the last remaining NCE sources of locally-produced programming which uniquely serves local constituencies in the Houston market, and replaces it largely with nationally-syndicated programming feeds with little-to-no local input or specific local interest.

* It eliminates the best and most accessible training ground in Houston where students and community members can learn the practical skills of broadcasting, media programming, and broadcast industry business management.

KTRU was created by the students of Rice University forty years ago, and has been staffed and programmed entirely by student and community volunteers for its entire span of operation. KTRU's primary mission has always been one of providing an educational broadcast voice. It has consistently achieved this mission by showcasing underexposed music (artists and genres that other radio stations won't broadcast due to commercial concerns or rigid programming formats); and by increasing awareness of, and directly participating in, the Houston music and arts scene, through organizing concerts, producing and distributing compilations of live recordings, providing DJ talent for arts events, and curating stages at major local music festivals

KTRU's programming features a wide assortment of music genres, including classical, jazz, rock, folk, electronic, experimental, reggae, hip-hop, blues, African, Indian, and other world musics. KTRU provides the only radio outlet for the music of many of Houston's ethnic minorities. KTRU carries no syndicated programming whatsover; it is 100% locally-produced, made by and for the local community. Most of these local ethnic and musical communities would no longer have access to any broadcast outlets were KTRU to disappear from the airwaves.

UHS already owns and operates a 100,000 watt radio station in the Houston area, KUHF 88.7 FM, which broadcasts both classical music and news programs, mostly syndicated from National Public Radio (NPR). Under the proposal, KUHF would become a 24-hour NPR station, and KTRU's programming on 91.7 FM would be replaced by another UHS station, KUHC, with a 24-hour classical music format. This would effectively double the amount of nationally-syndicated classical music programming and nationally-syndicated NPR programming in Houston, while destroying all of the diverse locally-produced local-interest programming currently found on KTRU.

UHS's stated motivation for acquiring a second NCE license in the Houston market is one of prestige, in that it furthers their goal of attaining "Tier One University" status in Texas. One cannot fault their goal, but serving the interests of the broadcast community should be the primary mission of a licensee, not a mere afterthought. The Rice Administration, which for forty years has had no role in the programming of KTRU, is treating the license as a mere investment asset that must be liquidated. Rice and UHS formulated and implemented this proposal in secret, with no input allowed from or notice given to the students, faculty, or alumni of either university, or community members, or the station itself. Internal emails obtained from UHS via the Freedom of Information Act indicate that both Rice and UHS officials conspired to conceal and mislead the public over the proposed sale until after the UHS Board of Regents had already approved it.

oNeither party in this exchange has demonstrated that they have the best interest of the listening public in mind.

KTRU is an irreplacable part of the fabric of the local Houston community, and a shining star and influence for the remaining NCE licensees in the country who strive to provide truly unique and educational programming in their own broadcast markets. The public interest, both locally and nationally, would be best served by KTRU's continued existence on Houston's FM dial. I humbly request that you stop the proposed license transfer.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Raymond J. Shea

A few random happenings for Where We Know: New Orleans as Home:

• Dave Rutledge and Sarah Inman were on WWNO last night on "The Reading Life" talking to Susan Larson about the book. If you missed it you can listen to the audio archive here.
• Octavia Books is having a reading and signing next Wednesday, December 1 at 6:00pm.
• Maple Street Book Shop is also having a reading and signing (and wine and cheese!) next Friday, December 3 at 6:00pm.

Not sure which authors will be at any of these; I know I won't, pretty sure Folse and Jasper won't be either, but guaranteed Rutledge and some of the UNO contingent will be there for sure, so check it out and buy a book. If you swing by Austin or see me on the KdV route next February I'll be happy to sign one for you.

In much giddier news, I got to hang out with the coolest kids ever, for a day. I wrote about The Sound of Building Coffins by Louis Maistros for the "Last Book I Loved" series on The Rumpus. Got much love from commenters and on Facebook; it was the literary high point of the year for me.

Hopefully it won't be the last thing I write over there. It's a special place, and if you want love (i.e., "overly personal emails") in your inbox every day from Stephen Elliott, you should definitely sign up for The Daily Rumpus.

That is all.

I went to see Welcome to the Rileys tonight. Since a friend forwarded the YouTube trailer to me, I'd been looking forward to it. James Gandolfini and Melissa Leo. Filmed in New Orleans. Strippers. What's not to like?

Lately everything I read and everything I watch has been pushing all my buttons, though. I keep seeing my life everywhere, my emotions and my impulses and my disappointments splayed all over every single thing I see, and I don't know, am I self-selecting based on my mood? Or am I really just by coincidence running into all these stories that are too raw and too personally meaningful, just by accident?

Maybe it isn't the stories. Maybe it's me.

I went to see Never Let Me Go in the theatre, alone, on my sober birthday. Slap. I read Where We Know as soon as it came in the mail. Double-slap. I'm reading Rumpus Women and it's slapping me upside the head every which way. I only got three chapters into City of Refuge and saw my marriage all over the place. I wrote something for The Rumpus that was a little emotional, I wrote something for an open mike that was very emotional, both of them non-fiction.

Today I spent my day just following links, avoiding work, and I read "The Martyr" by Sheldon Lee Compton and "For You We Are Holding" by Matt Bell and I'm thinking "goddamn how did these writers get in my head?" I'm finding I keep using words like "ache" and "heartbreak" to describe things I read, using them way too much, but where is that coming from? From what I read? Or from me?

So, the Rileys. James Gandolfini and Melissa Leo lost their teenage daughter in a car accident years before; she disappeared into a pill bottle, he started hooking up with a local waitress. They don't talk. On a business trip to New Orleans, dealing with some grief for some other stuff that I won't spoil, he wanders into Dixie Diva's, which is one of those low-rent Iberville strip clubs like the Artists Cafe where, ya know, stuff has been known to happen that is less common (or more expensive) in the high-class places like Barely Legal. (Yeah, I joke. Never mind.) He meets a stripper named Mallory. He ends up spending most of the movie getting increasingly wrapped up in her life and treating her like the daughter he never got to see grow up.

Can we count all the Ray-strings that this pulls?

New Orleans, check. The house Mallory lives in is a double-shotgun with a big red search-and-rescue X on it. Her neighbor and fellow waitress has a search and rescue X tattooed on her back. They eat po-boys at Vaughn's. They work at Dixie Diva's. Jeez, this movie is thick with real New Orleans.

Gandolfini carries his grief around in private. Check. He goes to a grave (not his daughter's) of somebody who he is not allowed to grieve for in public, and even though the person I was afraid I would have to do the same for years ago is actually sitting next to me in the theatre, holding my hand, I feel the punch from the fear of that very situation I felt long ago, when it was an all-too-real possibility.

And damn, but if you're one of those fucked-up ACOA white knight hero complex guys like, uh, me, you really do not want to spend two hours watching Compulsive Rescue Hero Syndrome play out on the big screen. Watching Gandolfini make mistakes I've made, make mistakes that I haven't made but seriously thought about making. It's painful. Have I given way too much away in the past and suffered for it? Yeah. Have I moved in and made a teenage stripper my surrogate daughter and tried to rescue her from The Life? No. If I didn't have kids and a girlfriend, would I? Probably.

I'm really ready for a couple of weeks of kittens and ice cream and a vintage Bugs Bunny marathon on cable. I really need a lot of fluff and cheeriness and candy. But if I could have all that, right now, would I trade in all this, this possibly-self-inflicted heartbreak?

Probably not.

Got a copy of Rumpus Women, Volume 1 in a gift basket and now I can't put it down.

For many reasons. Among them this:

After my breakup I very quickly slept with a few men, trying to put as many bodies and distance between myself and my ex-boyfriend, believing as I had when I was much younger that sex (or alcohol, or drugs, or moving to a new city with just a few hundred dollars in your pocket) can make you forget your problems. As a short-term solution, this works extremely well. It is, in fact, possible to become hugely occupied with someone you care very little about. But, of course, even if you forget your problems, it does not mean they have gone away.

by Jami Attenberg.