Radio daze

Yesterday, I was on a radio show to promote my book. The host is Gina Duran, a friend of mine who's a community activist and hosts The Collective radio show on KQBH 101.5. 

My best friend Tracy and I drove out to Boyle Heights in LA for the show. The show went live at 3 pm. We had yelped a restaurant named Paramount in the same studio as the radio station building. If we had time after lunch, we planned on finding a local record store to hit up.

Things got complicated. On the way to pick Tracy up, my tire indicator light flashed on. I had to find a tire place. On a Sunday. Fuck. Thank goodness I'm perpetually early. It was only 10:30 am. I had 30 minutes to spare.

I turned around and headed back toward Rialto off the 210 and pulled into a tire place. The rockabilly sleeved dude was cool and checked all my tires, refilled them and within ten minutes I was back on the road, Bowie and Buzzcocks blaring. 

I picked up Tracy a little after 11 am. We both wore black and white band tees, Joy Division for me and The Descendants for her.

When we got to Boyle Heights, it turned out to be a very cool latinx community. I skimmed past tons of family owned business, taquerias and there it was Paramount, a gastronomic pub. But there was no there there. It had closed over the Pandemic. 

Thankfully, next door was a very cool pizza pub that played Mexican music yet served beer mimosas and craft ales. Tracy and I shared a gluten free margarita pizza. After downing a glass bottle Diet Coke and chair dancing to some music, I looked at my watch. Plenty of time to hit up a local record store and we found Record Jungle, all used vinyl in Montebello, a 15 minute drive. 

Driving through the streets of LA and heading back on the 60 east, we arrived at Record Jungle in 13 minutes. A Starbucks a mere block away for caffeine after. Was this Nirvana? Yes it was. We flipped through bins in the rock and new arrival sections. No punk left. The guy who ran the store told us it goes quickly. 

That said, we found some cool stuff. Tracy found a Wire album and I found an Elvis Costello, my favorite old Alarm album, along with a Roxy Music, a Screaming Blue Messiahs, Charlie Sexton and a rare, uber cool compilation and more. Turns out, flipping though those stacks of old records paid off. 

Hopping back in the car, we made our way back to Boyle Heights. Trying to park, I got distracted and almost merged over into another's car's lane. Crisis averted, just a honk and a mean glare later, we were in studio. 

The studio was a real radio studio. I felt so elated as I walked through and sat at the microphone. Tracy took some pictures of us and after plugging in my headphones, we were live on air!

I gabbed with the host Gina for an hour about my book, public defense and punk rock. Talking is easy for me. Gina was great and played an epic mix of songs to weave in while we spoke. Patti Smith, The Smiths, The Replacements, and Siouxsie.

After the show ended, Art, a host of his own radio show on music and astrology (Arturo Guzman's Astro Projection show on 101.5 KQBH, it's epic!), showed us the punk rock murals from the days when this space was VEX, a punk venue. It was kismet. I thought, this is what I want to do. Music and writing is my Life. Capital L.

To wind down, we munched on fries after at the pizza place and then, another Diet Coke later, we headed home. 

When I got home, I thought wow, this is happening. This was real. My book was real. See https://www.bamboodartpress.com/store/juanita_e_mantz-portrait_of_a_deputy_public_defender.html.