JAZZ
David Miller’s program is dedicated to keeping the big band music of the Swing Era alive. Swingin' Down the Lane, hosted by David Miller, first went on the air in 1983 and is now carried by more than 45 National Public Radio stations in 28 states. The program, which is dedicated to keeping the big band music of the Swing Era alive, is recorded in Miller's home studio in Little Rock. It can be heard Tuesdays at 8 p.m. on KUAR FM 89.1.
Swingin' Down the Lane has thousands of devoted listeners across the country, and David Miller was recently featured on KATV's All About Arkansas segment.
In celebration of the show's silver anniversary, Miller has written this remembrance:
Twenty-five years on the air! Guess that qualifies me as a veteran broadcaster. I wish I could say that hosting a weekly program on National Public Radio is the culmination of a life-long dream. But that would be a bit of an exaggeration. Truth is, I stumbled into radio.
On a late Friday afternoon in 1983, I received a phone call from New York. A gentleman introduced himself as the producer of the Music Makers radio program. I was familiar with the program since it was broadcast weekly on a local commercial station. The program was hosted by bandleader Skitch Henderson.
"I understand you have a sizable record collection," he said. "Skitch's next guest will be Helen Forrest. They've already taped the session, but they're missing a record that Skitch wants to include on the program. Helen will be talking about her recording of 'The Man I Love' with Benny Goodman. Would you have one by any chance?"
"Just a minute," I replied. "I've got my records catalogued. Let me check."
I returned to the phone with good news. "That's on a 12-inch Columbia," I said, "and I happen to have three copies of it."
"Great," he said. "Do us a favor, would you? Pick out the best of the three, copy it to a cassette and FedEx it to me. We need it for next week's broadcast."
Eight days later, about 10:30 on a Saturday morning, I was seated at the kitchen table, listening to "Music Makers" while my wife Tish put away the breakfast dishes. I reached for a pen, grabbed a pad of paper and started to write.
After I worked away in silence a few minutes, Tish asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm writing a press release," I replied, while continuing to put pen to paper.
"A press release?" she said with a tone of disbelief. "What about?"
"I'm writing about the fact that they're playing MY record on a national radio broadcast."
"Why would anyone want to publish that?" she asked, with typical wifely disdain.
"You never know, it might be a slow news day. They might need a filler item."
"Yeah, sure," she said.
"I'm going to send it to both local papers and see what happens. But first I'd better check with the radio station. I want to make sure it's all right to mention them in the article."
The following Wednesday I met with the station manager and showed the press release. He read it and set it down on his desk.
"Tell me something about your music background," he said. I explained that I wasn't a musician but loved the music of the big bands. "Have you ever done any radio work?"
"No, never," I answered.
"Well, do you know how to mix?" he asked.
"Oh, sure," I said. "I'm no slouch at a cocktail party. I work the room pretty well."
"That's not exactly what I mean," he said, stifling the urge to chuckle at my naiveté. "But no matter, we have an engineer on duty 24 hours a day anyway. He can do the mixing. Would you be interested in doing a weekly program for us?"
That was the furthest thing from my mind when I walked in a few minutes earlier, but I immediately sparked to the idea. So it was that, six months later, I became a "radio personality." I decided to call my program "A Sentimental Journey with David Miller." The title seemed appropriate because of the demographics of the station's audience. The typical listener was in his or her 50s or older. They remembered listening to the big band sound as they grew up, went to college, married and started a family. To hear these sounds again would indeed constitute a sentimental journey back to their earlier years. It was also, of course, the title of an enormously popular song recorded by Doris Day with Les Brown's band.
I suppose I could have continued hosting the program on that one station forever but for a decision by station management to appeal to a younger audience --- a MUCH younger audience. They decided to develop a series of programs aimed at pre-kindergarten kids. Much as I would have liked to introduce these children to the smooth sounds of Glenn Miller, the Dorsey Brothers and Artie Shaw, I realized that my days as a broadcaster were over, or at least stalled.
Within months, though, I was back on the air again, this time on Little Rock's public radio station. I used the same format and the same program title. The title changed one day when I received a call from a lawyer from Florida who was passing through town and tuned to the NPR station. I don't remember much about our conversation besides the words "cease," "desist" and "NOW!" It seems that someone else had trademarked "Sentimental Journey" as the name of a radio program. The call came on a Friday. By Monday I had come up with a new title, "Swingin' Down the Lane," borrowed from a 1923 song by Gus Kahn and Isham Jones. That title has served me well. It has a lilt to it, suggesting that listeners will have a happy time, whereas the old title relied strictly on nostalgia. Oh, by the way, I own the trademark.
I was slow to realize that it required little added effort to have my program on many stations instead of just one. I began to offer the program to NPR stations. Bit by bit, over a span of several years, new stations picked up "Swingin' Down the Lane." At last count the program is heard on about 50 stations in 28 states as well as one in Hamburg, Germany.
Each week's episode has a theme. One recurring theme is the Desert Island series, where I ask a listener to build a program based on his or her favorite recordings. At least once a year I schedule a memorial program honoring musical personalities who have recently passed away. These days I'm offering more and more centennial broadcasts, featuring artists who if alive today would be celebrating their 100th birthdays. So far in 2008 I've saluted composer Leroy Anderson, bandleader Lionel Hampton and Arkansas's own Louis Jordan.
About a dozen years ago I started a new tradition, interviewing famous musicians, their children and their biographers. One of the first and most memorable interviews took place in Frankie Laine's beautiful San Diego home. His assistant told me that I'd be pressed for time because Frankie, then in his early 90s, took a nap every day promptly at 2 p.m.. Sure enough, after a delightful visit, he bade me goodbye and trooped upstairs to bed.
My wife Tish accompanied me last year when I interviewed Jo Stafford at her home in Century City, California. After the interview included, Tish reached over to unpin the microphone on the Stafford's jacket. In doing so she stepped on Jo's poodle, who had settled on the floor at her mistress's feet. No sooner had we left Jo's home when Tish turned to me and said, "That dog bit me." Sure enough, there were three teeth marks just above her ankle. We decided not to tell Jo, who died just a few months ago at age 90.
Many programs were inspired by cruises. I've come to know Larry O'Brien, director of the official Glenn Miller orchestra, through cruising with him along the coasts of Hawaii and Alaska. I've traveled through the Panama Canal with Buddy Morrow and the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra. Closer to home, I've cruised up and down the Mississippi on a paddlewheel boat with the Russ Morgan, Sammy Kaye, Jimmy Dorsey and Guy Lombardo bands. For a change of pace I rode the American Orient Express jazz train four times, joined by the Al Bernard Trio while traveling from New Orleans to Savannah. On all these excursions I lectured about jazz and the big band era.
People often ask if I'll ever exhaust ideas for programs. I tell them my music database contains 130,000 song titles. Since on average I play 15 songs a week, I expect I'll be "Swingin' Down the Lane" for many years to come. I'll celebrate my golden anniversary on the air in October 2033.
© Copyright 2009, UALR PUBLIC RADIO
