Post by bossradio93 on Dec 13, 2003 8:02:18 GMT -5
“That said, I started out as a Democrat, because of my mom,” Elder smiled. His father is a lifelong Republican, his mother—who appears on his show every Friday—is a lifelong Democrat. “But my mother really is a Kennedy Democrat—and by that I mean a Jack Kennedy Democrat,” Elder says. “Frankly, I believe it’s emotional, as it is with a lot of people. The Democrats wear the white hats, the Republicans wear the black hats, especially for black people.”
The first real glimmer of a conscious political sensibility came in when he attended Brown University, “because I took economics 101,” he said. “If people would take a basic economics class, I think many of the problems we have in this country would go away.”
He sometimes can sound flippant when he’s serious, but Elder really does believe that all people in America need are the radio equivalent of smelling salts to bring them ‘round. “I think most people are libertarians and don’t know it,” he said. “We really are the center, and the center is, ‘Leave me alone! I can manage my money better than you can. I can make my own decisions—on abortion, on education. Leave me alone!’ That’s how most people are. I really believe that.”
Even most Democrats? “Let’s take the Democratic Party,” Elder says. “Black Democrats in particular. Al Gore received 93 percent of the black vote, but if you take polling data on inner city blacks, the majority of them are for vouchers. The most recent voucher initiative in California passed among inner city voters, where the need was the greatest. Those parents want out, not just for education, but for safety. But the Democratic Party adamantly opposes vouchers. The majority of blacks are pro life, yet the black Democratic leadership is pro-choice. The same goes for gun control.”
This is why he puts up with being called Oreo, Uncle Tom and race traitor on a daily basis—at least on a professional level, where he’s able to joke about it. It’s one thing to crack wise about all the flak he gets from listeners, but given his apparent gentleness off-stage, what is it like to go about the business of one’s daily life being so, well, in a word, hated?
“I’ve walked into a restaurant, particularly in the inner city, where I’ve felt that eyes were upon me, and it was not positive,” he said measuredly, then laughed. “But by and large, human beings don’t walk up to people and tell them they’re evil. I could count on one hand the number of times, in a ten year career, that people have gone out of their way to say anything negative.”
Pressed for an example, he thought about it, then said quietly, “I was at a restaurant, about a year ago, and I sat at the bar with all these guys, and there was a basketball game on, and we were all talking, and someone recognized my voice. He said ‘I listen to you all the time,’ and shook my hand, and the next guy shook my hand, and the next guy. There was a black guy standing there—I could tell he was overhearing all of this. The person I was waiting for arrived; she and I got a table; and halfway through the meal, the black guy came over. He leaned over me and said, ‘Nobody kisses ass like you do,’ and walked away. The person I was with looked at me and said, ‘What was that all about?’”
Most of the vitriol he hears comes in over the phone lines, where people do feel free to express themselves. “When I first started, it bothered me a lot,” he said. “I fell into radio so suddenly that I hadn’t built up any armor. Then I began to consider the source. Now I think if anybody says anything like that, they’re a thoughtless, shallow, superficial person, a, and b,” he grins, “this is kind of cycnical, but it makes the show that much more entertaining.”
Gadflies and wackos aside, the physical feat of putting on a combative, three-hour radio show every day is tough. Asked if that part of it ever became routine, Elder said not at all, that each and every show involves the expenditure of a large amount of adrenaline, and leaves him pretty much bone-tired. “I was driving home at the end of the day recently. I was drained. It had been a particularly contentious three hours, because I was defending the war on Iraq, which is a tough sell, because there are reasonable people who disagree. So I was driving home, and I got into my driveway, and there was a delivery truck coming the other way. I rolled down my window and the guy said, ‘I just delivered a package to your house, and nobody was there, so I dropped it outside the gate.’ And I said, ‘No problem,’ and then he smiled and said, ‘Give ‘em hell, Sage.’ He just let me know that there are a lot of people out there listening, embracing my message and supporting me.”
Source: Los Angeles Radio People-Dec. 12, 2003
The first real glimmer of a conscious political sensibility came in when he attended Brown University, “because I took economics 101,” he said. “If people would take a basic economics class, I think many of the problems we have in this country would go away.”
He sometimes can sound flippant when he’s serious, but Elder really does believe that all people in America need are the radio equivalent of smelling salts to bring them ‘round. “I think most people are libertarians and don’t know it,” he said. “We really are the center, and the center is, ‘Leave me alone! I can manage my money better than you can. I can make my own decisions—on abortion, on education. Leave me alone!’ That’s how most people are. I really believe that.”
Even most Democrats? “Let’s take the Democratic Party,” Elder says. “Black Democrats in particular. Al Gore received 93 percent of the black vote, but if you take polling data on inner city blacks, the majority of them are for vouchers. The most recent voucher initiative in California passed among inner city voters, where the need was the greatest. Those parents want out, not just for education, but for safety. But the Democratic Party adamantly opposes vouchers. The majority of blacks are pro life, yet the black Democratic leadership is pro-choice. The same goes for gun control.”
This is why he puts up with being called Oreo, Uncle Tom and race traitor on a daily basis—at least on a professional level, where he’s able to joke about it. It’s one thing to crack wise about all the flak he gets from listeners, but given his apparent gentleness off-stage, what is it like to go about the business of one’s daily life being so, well, in a word, hated?
“I’ve walked into a restaurant, particularly in the inner city, where I’ve felt that eyes were upon me, and it was not positive,” he said measuredly, then laughed. “But by and large, human beings don’t walk up to people and tell them they’re evil. I could count on one hand the number of times, in a ten year career, that people have gone out of their way to say anything negative.”
Pressed for an example, he thought about it, then said quietly, “I was at a restaurant, about a year ago, and I sat at the bar with all these guys, and there was a basketball game on, and we were all talking, and someone recognized my voice. He said ‘I listen to you all the time,’ and shook my hand, and the next guy shook my hand, and the next guy. There was a black guy standing there—I could tell he was overhearing all of this. The person I was waiting for arrived; she and I got a table; and halfway through the meal, the black guy came over. He leaned over me and said, ‘Nobody kisses ass like you do,’ and walked away. The person I was with looked at me and said, ‘What was that all about?’”
Most of the vitriol he hears comes in over the phone lines, where people do feel free to express themselves. “When I first started, it bothered me a lot,” he said. “I fell into radio so suddenly that I hadn’t built up any armor. Then I began to consider the source. Now I think if anybody says anything like that, they’re a thoughtless, shallow, superficial person, a, and b,” he grins, “this is kind of cycnical, but it makes the show that much more entertaining.”
Gadflies and wackos aside, the physical feat of putting on a combative, three-hour radio show every day is tough. Asked if that part of it ever became routine, Elder said not at all, that each and every show involves the expenditure of a large amount of adrenaline, and leaves him pretty much bone-tired. “I was driving home at the end of the day recently. I was drained. It had been a particularly contentious three hours, because I was defending the war on Iraq, which is a tough sell, because there are reasonable people who disagree. So I was driving home, and I got into my driveway, and there was a delivery truck coming the other way. I rolled down my window and the guy said, ‘I just delivered a package to your house, and nobody was there, so I dropped it outside the gate.’ And I said, ‘No problem,’ and then he smiled and said, ‘Give ‘em hell, Sage.’ He just let me know that there are a lot of people out there listening, embracing my message and supporting me.”
Source: Los Angeles Radio People-Dec. 12, 2003