Radio Guy Dies While Doing 'Remote' from the New Bad-Boys Appliance Superstore

The local broadcasting community was shocked this morning when they witnessed the fiery loss of one of their own in a bizarre accident during a live-remote from the new Bad Boys Appliance & Furniture Giant Warehouse store.

Along with every other morning radio-show announcer in town, Brian "Skip" Henderson of CJOE-AM was broadcasting live from the new Bad Boys outlet on Wharncliffe Road just across the street from 'Hooters.' Henderson was waiting his turn for an on-air interview with Bad Boy founder/ex-Toronto mayor/all-round Shakespearen 'Fool'-at-large Mel Lastman when he was killed almost instantly after becoming engulfed in flames and overcome by propane gas fumes - not necessarily in that order - while fiddling with the controls on a new propane Barbeque Extreme from Weber.

Veteran broadcaster Henderson was 65 and leaves behind no wife or children.

"Skip's life was his job - and his job, was his life." said CJOE general manager Gil Grady when asked how Henderson's family felt about the news. Grady - ever the philosopher - then explained, "The people of London were Skip's family." He elaborated, "It was like Skip was a member of the family in every household in London in the 45-year-old to death demographic."

According to Grady, Henderson began his long-career with CJOE after moving to town from Toronto in the early 1960s. Despite no previous experience, he was put on the air to work as a disc-jockey as soon as he claimed to be a personal friend of Tommy Hunter. It was in those early days of late-night record-spinning that Henderson earned his industry nick-name of "Butterfingers."

Grady explains that contrary to popular belief, even though most people assume the name "Skip" came about from his inexperience in handling 45 RPM singles and turntables, Henderson had actually arrived in town with that moniker and said it was given to him by his parents and that 'Skip' was really his middle name. "He took a lot of ribbing over that nick in the early days," laughs Grady.

Even though he was a humble man, Grady says that Henderson was most proud of his induction into the London Press Club's Radio Broadcaster's Hall of Fame last year. "After 45 years in the business, he was finally recognized by his peers for his accomplishments. Geez, somebody should have nominated the guy a lot earlier. He was years ahead of his time."

"If you ask me, he should have been inducted years ago just for coming up with the phrase 'Weather and traffic together.' Today, everyone uses that - although most radio people have changed it to 'traffic and weather together' because it flows better. But we all stole that from Skip. He was the originator. The man was like a poet or something."

"And he was always coming up with stuff like that," Grady adds. "Like, back in the days when we promoted him from being the late-night music guy to the 'News-talk-sports' guy in the mornings. Skip came up with this idea of giving the weather report every ten minutes. And I mean that day's weather too. So he calls it 'weather on the tens.'

"Years later, when he was doing the afternoon drive-home show, what's he do? He adapts the 'weather on the tens' concept by changing it to 'traffic on the tens.' The idea being that every ten minutes he'd give an updated traffic report. I remember him coming into my office and explaining it all to me. He had it all figured out.

" 'Ya know, Gil,' he says. 'In the morning, people only want to hear what the weather for that day is going to be. They don't give a shit about traffic in the morning because they're heading into work. But in the afternoon, they can't get away from the place fast enough and when they're headed home or off to get a cold beer, you can bet your ass they want to know what the traffic's like, what roads are closed, what intersections are tied up by an accident. And as long as someone calls in and tells me, damn right I'm gonna be the guy to give 'em that information.' "

"That's just the kinda guy he was," continues Grady. "The man was a pioneer in this industry. You want to know just what kind of visionary he was, let me tell you something - back in the early 1990s, people stopped watching television because of that new Internet thing. But for us radio guys, the computers didn't hurt our popularity at all. I mean, we were like kings!

"And at that time, we decided that Skip should have his own morning show. Not the five-to-nine a.m. time-slot mind you, but the big enchilada. That's right, the nine-to-noon slot. Now that's three hours of prime-time radio the guy's gotta fill. So what's Skip do? He steals an idea from the local daytime TV shows - and starts doing his own cooking segment. Every time he needs to take a leak or go out for a smoke he puts on a tape of bacon frying and of a knife hitting a wooden cutting board - and over top of all that, he records his voice so that you, as the listener can hear Skip saying stuff like 'Oh, that's frying up real good.' and 'Don't be afraid to put lots of diced onions in your stir-fry.' And he'd play that sucker for about twenty minutes! I tell ya, the man was a genius!"

"He tried to come up with a way to do the same thing with a decorating-advice segment but housewives actually kept calling up asking him what color to paint their walls. That always pissed him off. He'd have to run a whole batch of commercials right after that just so he could sneak out of the studio and have his break. So that idea died a quick death.

"But you know, in the 42 years I knew him, that was the only career disappointment he ever mentioned," Grady said as he wiped away a tear.

Fire officials at the scene of this morning's accident at the new Bad Boys Appliance and Furniture Giant Warehouse on Wharncliffe Road say that the official cause of death has not yet been determined but that it likely has something to do with Henderson playing with a propane valve and his ever-present DuMaurier menthol.

"Ironically," says Grady - "During the years he did his cooking-segment on the air, Skip's catchphrase was 'CJOE - now we're cooking with gas.' And for some reason, he kept using it even after he dropped the cooking and was later promoted to being our remotes-location guy. Knowing Skip, wherever he is, he's probably getting a big chuckle out of that right now."

Man Unable to Get Laid After Stevie Nicks Concert

Middleaged-single Dwight Schmidlapt went home alone following last night's Stevie Nicks concert at downtown London's John Labatts Centre. It was a disappointing evening all around for Schmidlapt who laid out $125 for a single ticket on the floor close to the stage.

"I figured the place would be full of chicks in their late 40s, early 50s reliving their youth with a night of wild rockin' abandon with their girl-friends," says Schmidlapt. "So I got a ticket to put me right in the midst of all that post-menopausal hormonal action. I thought I would be about the only guy there. How could I go wrong?"

However, although Schmidlapt's calculations were close to being accurate - the ratio of women to men at the concert was ten to one, witnesses in Section 1 of floor-seating for the show report that Schmidlapt blew it by pissing off everyone around him.

"Starting with the first song, Edge of Seventeen, he was getting on people's nerves by loudly sqawking out the chorus 'Woo-woo-who' and flapping his arms like a chicken," says Yvonne Cooperman who was standing next to Schmidlapt near the stage. "And everytime Stevie finished a song, he would yell out 'You go, girl!' And I mean after every song! Finally after he yelled it out five times in a row after Stevie sang her ballad Landslide, the one that always makes me cry - I got my husband to tell him to shut the fuck up."

Michelle Powers, who works at the same office-supply firm as Schmidlapt says she could see him from her own vantage point of ten rows back but didn't say hello or even let him know she was there because he was making such an asshole of himself.

"Dwight was really trying too hard to get laid by letting all the women around him know what a big Stevie Nicks fan he is," says Powers. "But the thing is, every time there was a lull in the music or a quiet moment in Stevie's song-introductions, he would yell out for her to sing, You Make Lovin' Fun. You know, from the Fleetwood Mac Rumors album? Well, shit, everyone knows that's a Christie McVie song!

"And when it came time for the encore and Dwight - trying to be funny I guess, starts yelling 'Don't Stop' - yet another song by McVie from Rumors I might add - well let's put it this way, judging by the looks I saw every woman in the place giving him, Dwight might as well have shipped his dick home in a cab right then and there, because he certainly wasn't going to be using it that night."

After the concert, Schmidlapt stood alone at the bar across the street in Robinson Hall, nursing a Tequila Sunrise while surrounded by horny middle-aged women in the process of rapidly getting drunk and losing all their inhibitions with any man who could reasonably fake his way through an explanation to the meaning of Rhiannon - and who all stood a well-defined distance of ten feet away from him.

"Where did I go wrong," he asked this reporter. "I had it all figured out. The demographics were perfect. The right age-group, the perfect chick-friendly performer. The fact that women would rather go see her with their girlfriends and the fact that their boyfriends would be just as happy to stay home and watch the Jays game on TV. I had it all worked out. You know, in a perfect world, I would be getting laid right now. In fact, I even picked up a used record of Fleetwood Mac's 1969 album Then Play On that I was going to put on the stereo for while we were in the sack. See what I mean? I thought of everything."

Schmidlapt, ever the optimist, then brightened and said, "But don't count me out of the game yet. In two weeks, Gwen Stefani is coming to town. I'll have better results with that crowd. I don't really know many of her songs, but I did see her new video for a song called Candyman on MuchMusic the other day and it was pretty catchy. Hey, how can I go wrong?"

Large Marge

True story - I may have experienced a glimpse into one of those "portals" to Doggie Heaven yesterday.

I was heading out of the house and saw a woman coming down the street walking her dog - an old beagle. I'd noticed her in the neighbourhood a couple of times in the past month. But only because she looked remarkably like Barb McMahon, an old co-worker of mine from my last place of employment. The last time I had seen her would have been in the period when it went out of business about five years ago. I hadn't seen or heard of her since and she wasn't the type I could imagine living in this area of town.

So when I saw her closer up yesterday, I greeted her as 'Barb' - and she said 'Yes?' and then looked at me like she didn't recognize me. Now, I don't claim to be the best-looking guy in the world, but I do have my own somewhat distinctive look and people tend to remember me just because of those rugged good looks. So I told her who I was and she finally did remember me - even tho we had both worked at the same location for two separate lengthy times a few years ago.

I asked if she had recently moved into the neighbourhood. No, she's been living near the Children's Museum on the street behind me for the past five years. She then asked if I was still with the place of our last employment. An odd question considering that we were both there at the bitter end when they went out of business. I told her that I was working elsewhere with the very same group of people - and got no response. She wasn't the least bit curious.

As is obligatory in such chance meetings, I did the polite thing and asked what she was doing these days. "Oh, I'm not doing anything." Barb was never the most forthcoming of people so I let it go at that and we exchanged parting pleasentries.

But when it was first confirmed that it was indeed Barb, I had a good look at her. The Barb McMahon I remembered always had a somewhat constipated expression. The furrowed forehead and lack of a smile that seems to suit most anal-type personalities. But this Barb, had a clear, wrinkle-free, almost peaceful expression on her face. An unlikely look of contentment and being at peace with the world. This was not how you would have described the old Barb.

So anyways, today, before I take Rover out for his apres-lunch dog-walk about the neighbourhood, I checked the phone book for a listing for Barb on the street behind me. There was one for a 'B. McMahon' at #49 The Street-Behind.

But get this, as we're walking down that street, getting closer to the Children's Museum, we run out of numbers. The street ended at a house with the number 45. No #47 and certainly no 49. Just a big area for parking for all the people who live in the converted apartment at #45. Across the road is the Childrens Museum which is located on Riverview Street. The Street-Behind me is a mere one-blocker and doesn't continue across Wharncliffe Road. It ends with #45.

It didn't take me long to jump to conclusions.

So here's the facts - I see her yesterday and she initially doesn't recognize me. She doesn't even remember that the place we worked together had gone out of business in a very memorable labor dispute. There is a look of new-found serenity upon her face. The address I find for her on the street she claims to live is not there. Just a large parking area.

And she was walking an old dog. And when asked what she's up to - "I'm not doing anything."

This can mean only one of two things.

There is the remote possibility that Bell made a typing mistake when it printed her house-number with her address in the phone book.

Either that, or the Barb that I was talking to was - her ghost!

Batman Seen Crying at Screening of 'Spiderman 3'

A theatre full of comic-book fans were shocked and stunned this week to see Batman openly weeping at a premiere screening of Spiderman 3.

Batman (also known as 'wealthy playboy Bruce Wayne') was observed surreptitiously dabbing at the white blank eye-holes of his cowl on three separate occassions during the movie.

The first time was during the flashback scene where Peter Parker relives the murder of his Uncle Joe. Witnesses in the row behind him claim to have heard the Dark Knight moaning "Oh, Mother and Father, I'm soooo sorry," under his breath.

During the scene where Aunt Meg falls down and breaks her hip while bringing Master Peter a glass of milk and a plate of cookies while he is doing his chemistry homework, some movie-goers saw the Caped Crusader's shoulders shaking as he pulled a white hankie from his utility belt and blew heavily into it while muttering "Alfred, dear Alfred - rest in peace ol' chum."

Lastly, in the closing moments of the film in which Mary Jane tells Peter Parker that she likes the guy from That 70s Show more than him, Batman leaned over and was seen sobbing onto the shoulders of his date, Kim Basinger.

When the movie ended, the Batman was heard explaining that his eyes were moist because he had somehow gotten a husk of popcorn in them. He then punched out the popcorn-bag filler kid at the snack bar and told him to consider it a message for his boss - The Joker.

Man Wears Slippers for Quick Trip to 7-11

Customers and staff at an Old South London '7-11' convenience-mart were suprised yesterday when a man walked into the store wearing his house slippers instead of standard outdoors footwear.

"Surprised nothin', I was shocked," said crew-chief Darren Mallard. "I was working cash and turned to say 'Good afternoon, how ya doin' like we do whenever someone comes in - and this guy is wearing his slippers. And this is like 2:30 in the afternoon."

Mallard's story is backed up by shopper Becky Crowder who had come in to pick up some milk and a box of Ding-Dongs and was paying for her purchases when the man came in. "At first I thought they were moccassins - because they looked like those fringed rawhide things you see some of the Natives and hippies wearing, but no, they were definitely slippers."

Customer Drew Lockbury who was at the 'Slurpee Station' said he saw the man's entrance. "It's not like he drove over and jumped out of his car or anything - he must have walked over like that."

The slipper-shod man, who would only identify himself as 'Bob' explained on his way out of the store that he "Just didn't feel like being bothered with laces today. It's the weekend, man."

Local Man "Very Disappointed" in New 'Crabby Joe's' Radio Commercial

London resident Colin Switlicki sighed and turned off the radio saying he yearned for the "good ol' days."

Try as he might, Switlicki confessed that he just couldn't "get into" the change in direction taken by the producers of the new radio-ad campaign for the local restaurant-chain Crabby John's Steakhouse and Seafood Emporium.

"I don't consider myself an 'old Fogarty' by any stretch of the imagination but the new marketing strategy just doesn't do anything for me," admits the 53-year-old Switlicki adding that, "Back in 'the day' it was all about 'the Crabby.'

"Remember when every Crabby John radio commercial had a storyline in which Crabby John was constantly being taunted by his customers who congratulated him on his $115 T-Bone Steak Specials - Served All Day? Or that lunch-time business deals were always sealed early due to Crabby's Buck-a-beer pre-luncheon special (only offered between 11:00 and noon); or his Kids eat free every Tuesday! (offer only applies to children under the age of one.) Man, when it comes to 'Theatre of the Mind' - which is what radio really is, if you think about it - now that's what I call Art."

"But I'm sorry because with this new promotion, the focus is all wrong. They've turned 'Crabby John' from being gruff and unloveable into a gruff but loveable Disneyfied 'Grumpy the Elf'' from Snow White. No, I just can't go along with that. It violates the integrity of the original concept. The whole 'Crabby John' mythology has been compromised. And for what? For something better? For a higher plane of 'Art'? Noooo - it's just to get new customers who hope to win big with the new contest they're promoting. Ooooh, a free trip to Toronto!"

Switlicki says that he would like to personally take his complaints directly to 'Crabby John' himself but unfortunately has never been in any of the two Crabby John franchises in the London area. Or even to their only other outlet in St. Thomas. "Yeah, I'd really like to give him a piece of my mind or at least some constructive criticism," says Switlicki. "But I'm a vegetarian and have an allergy to shell-fish so they probably wouldn't take me seriously."

According to his wife, Susan Switlicki, this is nothing new to her husband. "You should have seen him after they stopped running the radio commercials for 'Marvellous Marv - Your man at the Gibralter Trade Centre' - he was inconsolable for days. Even today whenever they run an ad for Trails End or Covent Garden Market, he starts bitching about how they got rid of "that great punster Marv."

Next week - Area Man Peppers His Conversation with Catchphrases from Get Smart.