As I wrote in Chapter XXI (The Birth Of AC Radio), when we launched the first-ever Adult Contemporary radio station, the Toronto Broadcasters were up in arms.
They believed we had gone rock which you couldn’t do without appearing before the CRTC.

What they didn’t know was the CRTC had already told me that they didn’t care what kind of music we played; they only cared about who was listening, so they, like us, were waiting for the ratings to come out.
And because our license stipulated that we must appeal to adults, we were more than anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Can You spell n-e-r-v-o-u-s? Here they come; the new BBM ratings for Toronto are finally here.
Hey, not to worry, the numbers are through the roof, and the best part is they’re adults. Whew!

There was no way that I could know if the music was right because this was long before music research or any kind of research, for that matter.
First, I called Ted Rogers with the good news, and then Keith Dancy, who was already in LA, where I would join him the next day for a radio convention.

I spent the rest of that glorious day sitting around my office with Roger, Bruce, Keith, Sharon, Sandy, Earl, Doc, Bob, Bam, Stirling, and Rick, smoking cigars and drinking champagne.
What a great fu*king day!

As much as I wanted to party with my guys, I had to catch a flight the next morning, so I shut it down early.
When I arrived at the airport the next day, I was delighted to discover that my ticket to LA had magically been upgraded to first class.

Unfortunately, I spent most of the six-hour flight to Los Angeles in the upstairs bar of our 747, and by the time we landed at LAX, I was wasted.
(Rule #1, never put a radio guy anywhere near an open bar)

As I stumbled off the plane, Keith said, “Looks like we’ve got some work to do if you’re gonna make the cocktail party tonight.”
The next thing I knew, I was, sitting in a hot tub in a spa that looked like we were in ancient Rome.

As Keith and I sat in the swirling water chatting about our great ratings, suddenly, a blonde goddess wearing a Toga shows up and escorts me to a private room.
Just before leaving, she told me to disrobe and lie face down on the massage table.

When she returned, she began pouring warm oil all over my body, and then she started to massage the twenty-five hundred-mile flight out of me.
It felt so good that I almost started to drift off, but then she said to me, “It appears as though your friend next door likes you a lot because he’s upgraded you to our special massage.”

When I asked, “How could it possibly feel any better than this,” she said, “Trust me, it will.”
Now, it appears like what began in Toronto with the arrival of some great ratings would finish up in Los Angeles with a “Happy Ending.”

(On top is the telegram that was waiting at my hotel when I got to LA.)