Making excuses for going off the air midday on a weekend "because there's probably no commercials anyway" is a pathetic betrayal of the social contract that broadcasters are licensed to provide for the right to run a station. Not that hearing the same songs for the 1012th time counts as much of a compelling reason for being on the air either. But some of you "broadcasters" can get away with that kind of thinking, thanks to a not-so-well oiled machine that inserts cash here, excretes it there, while you strain to get a bigger risk-free chunk than they you did last month while waiting on agency orders to be filled for another "25-54 buy." Gentlemen, many of your stations get to make a boatload of money selling advertising on high powered frequences in major markets like Seattle, in exchange for being on the air and providing some sort of "public service," no matter how weakly defined that "service" may be in the current environment. Some of you do an admirable job at that. But I'd say that's not really true for most radio operators.
As I see it, people who scoff at that foundation to the American broadcasting model (especially when they get to hold a license) are the real threat to the future of radio broadcasting as an industry. How many stations are now actually worth less than the Pennysaver advertising circulars, jammed into a rack in the entrance to your local supermarket?
I guess as long as the honchos at the NAB run a mafia-like control over the FCC, and play puppet string games with its smiling and backslappin' chairnan, then hang him out to dry to teach him who's boss -- well, I guess that keeps anyone at the regulatory agency from feeling empowered to set some standards for making the industry grow beyond the fiefdoms of a dozen or so filthy rich corporations. LPFM is not much of an answer, especially after this current blitz of religious translators finishes getting approved.
How's that for a sun-free chilly Seattle summer afternoon rant? I'd sure like some interesting music to accompany my weekend afternoons, but the lion's share of hard rockin,' cow-turd slingin' processed to a shiny-glare pap we get across the dial doesn't do much for me! That's probably why some of us used to like listening to KMCQ. Before it got the same buzz cut as all the rest of the gang wears.