Loved living
in San Diego
Hey, what’s not to like
when you’re doing
good radio
Had an ops guy
by the name of Reid Reker
McCoy had pre-hipped me
that he was a keeper.
When I moved to San Diego to work for the Shadeks, things were going pretty well, but the scary part was we were doing two brand-new formats.
In San Antonio, we were doing “Class,” and in San Diego, “The Radio Magazine.”
I also believed the only way to have a big morning show was to hire somebody famous or make who you have famous.
Luckily, Martin Milner, who starred in not only a couple of big TV series, Route 66 and Adam-12 but also a bunch of movies, lived in San Diego and wanted to give radio a shot, so we had the fame part covered. (Marty is pictured on top)
Even though Marty had never done radio before, he was up for the challenge.
Thankfully, he was a quick study, and because he didn’t disagree with anything, we moved along very quickly.
The media queens loved him, so we got on a few radio buys before he was even on the air.
In fact, things had gone so well that I was considering hiring nothing but movie stars in the future.
When I arrived, he was in a panic. “George,” he said, “Not only can’t anybody find my script, but they don’t even know what I’m talking about. Did you bring it?”
Celebrated my 40th
in the Polo Lounge
a lot of my friends
all came around.
Even my wife, Lana,
decided to show
But her moving to Cali
was still a no-go.
After launching “Class FM” in San Antonio and Martin Milner in San Diego, it was time to party “Dude.”
It was my 40th birthday, and what better place to celebrate that I’d finally made it to California than at the famous Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel? Hey, if it was good enough for Bogey and Bacall, it worked for me.
When I invited all my friends to join me for a cocktail in the Polo Lounge, the first person to respond was my old friend Charlie Minor from A&M Records.
Charlie wanted to know what arrangements I’d made with the Polo Lounge, and when I said that it was an informal affair, he said, “George, Saturday night is when the celebrities like to hang out there, none of your friends will be able to get in, man!”
When I showed up that morning, sure enough, Charlie was there waiting for me.
Then, when he introduced me to the Matre D’ and I slipped him the fifty, they both guaranteed my birthday would be special.
How’s that tune go again, “Oh, What A Night.”
My party couldn’t have gone any better, red velvet ropes led to my banquet-like table, and whenever one of my friends would show up, the Maitre D’ would loudly announce their name as being for Mr. Johns’ table.
Some folks from around the country who couldn’t make it called, and each time one did, the Maitre D’ would loudly announce, “Phone call for Mr. Johns.”
One of those phone calls was from Russ Morley, who, upon hearing that Lana was with me, said, “Oh shit!” and hung up.
Hmmmmmm, I thought until I was distracted by, “Singing telegram for Mr. Johns.”
The next thing I knew, a beautiful young lady was sitting on my lap singing happy birthday to me who couldn’t sing, and I remember thinking, you’d expect in Hollywood they’d to be the best. Hmmmmmmmmmm!
As the night progressed and the announcements from the Maitre D’ continued, it wasn’t long before the celebrities at the bar were craning their necks to see who the hell I was.
It was a stellar night for a kid from Transcona who had sat around a shop class with his buddies years ago, “California Dreamin’.”
I wish Easter, Bomba, Ringach, and Shift could have joined me to raise a glass and celebrate that one of us finally made it to Surf City.