Recently, I had rather a serendipitous experience with the Mischke Broadcast. While driving home at 10 p.m., on roads hazardous as a result of a particularly brutal March snowstorm, I tuned to the Mischke Broadcast and heard silence. Tommy finally spoke, however, from a pay phone at the intersection of Lexington and Grand. His car had broken down, and he warned his producer that if someone didn’t pick him up soon, there would be no show. Not wanting to fall prey to a Mischke radio stunt, I called his producer and asked, “Is he serious?” He assured me he was. “I’m on my way,” I promised, and sped to the intersection, where Tommy stood huddled over a pay phone, enduring brutal winter winds. I waved him into my truck and the magic began.
Tommy took an experience that would have derailed a typical host and turned it into an hour of unparalleled radio entertainment. It wasn’t enough that we drive straight to the station so he could resume the show from more hospitable environs; rather, the opportunity to broadcast an hour of his show from a careworn 1997 Ford Ranger was not a gift he was willing (or able) to take for granted. A regular young caller, Luke, sang songs to Mischke as we drove. We stopped at a McDonald’s drive-through window where Tommy peppered the staff with questions about the meaning of life. An over-the-road trucker, hearing our location, rendezvoused with us near the restaurant, and Tommy gleefully entered the cab of his tractor-trailer, playing with the CB radio like a bedazzled child. Finally, we arrived at the station. At the end of the ride Tommy thanked me, offered reimbursement (which I declined), then bounded happily into the studio. It was just business as usual on the Mischke Broadcast. Tommy Mischke may be an acquired taste, but like most of the finer things in life he’s well worth it. In a radio world teeming with pabulum, anger, or just plain banality, the Mischke Broadcast is a sorely needed oasis of originality.
Thomas Bonnett
Woodbury
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