Here’s to You, DJ-Person, for National Disc-Jockey Day: Some Honest Encouragement

First, please know I’m for-real writing this. No “artificial intelligence” was used to create this article.

And perhaps no other kinds of intelligence, either, but the point is: It’s really me.

I am a human, and I’m here to honor you for National Disc Jockey Day, January 20. 

Now, there are layers of irony here, because one of the running things on my show is I do the opposite of whatever the “National Day of…” is. I maintain that I will not be bossed around by some shadowy, globalist cabal that decides these things. If it’s “National Pie Day”, I will foreswear pie. If it’s “International Facts about Dogs Day” I will simply refuse to learn about dogs.

Yes, my commitment to this does cause some consternation on the “National Day of Prayer” but that’s between me and the Lord.

Anyway, I have my principles, and I will NEVER EVER EVER BACK DOWN… except in this case, onaccounta Michelle Younkman asked me to, and she’s super-nice.

But enough with the irony. Here’s to us, fellow DJ-person. While it comes naturally for us to make fun of ourselves, can I offer some things– just between us–that, doggonit, I just like about us?

Here we go:

We can say more in a minute than many can in a half-hour sermon. I’m not exaggerating here. I mean it. And it’s no mystery why: We’ve spent our careers condensing. We get to the point. Do that a few thousand times, and you might good at it. You might listen to a speech and think, “Wow. Coulda said that in 45 seconds,” and not be wrong at all.

We can manage our words through an amazing number of filters. We know kids are listening. And Gen Zers. And Boomers. People on the right and the left. New believers, non-believers, old believers… they’re all in there. People with sophisticated senses of humor, and people with no senses of humor. This is high-level stuff, speaking to all at once.

We can be very practiced at hospitality. Even if it’s not our spiritual gift, we get better at it, because over and over we’re welcoming people. Good communicating starts and ends with empathy. Good broadcasting is exceedingly mannerly, and manners (“don’t talk with your mouth full”) are founded in thinking of others.

We learn how to throw out a welcome mat.

We are pretty darn adaptable. It’s one thing to try to host a good show. But can you do it, say, when your headphones suddenly don’t work anymore for some reason? And then all the computers go dark? And then your co-host starts choking on something? All while a listener is on the phone questioning your salvation?—that kind of thing.

Most of us have been through Extreme Broadcast Scenarios, and someday I’ll tell you about getting in a car-totaling accident (a listener smashed into my car) at the site of my remote at the Select Comfort Bed Store.

My point is, man, do we learn to roll with things. High-wire acts, we are.

Our brains work REALLY hard. I’m EXHAUSTED after doing a show, and most of my career, I’ve been ashamed of that. (“What’s the deal? I’m not doing manual labor or anything…”)

But if you’re running a board and thinking about how to communicate effectively simultaneously—all through the aforementioned filters, no less—your brain is burning energy. I heard Jerry Seinfeld talk about sitting to write comedy for all of one hour and then wanting to sleep. We’re told chess masters can burn 9,000 calories a day just sitting there, thinking. What we do, if we bring passion to it, is genuinely hard.

Lastly—and I’m hoping it’s not just me, here—we sure learn our dependence on God. I have to ask the Lord to provide content every day. Like ESPN’s Bomani Jones said on his radio show, “These three hours ain’t gonna fill themselves,” and in our case, we need GRACE to do it. That’s what grace is for, to burn it like jet fuel. And it may sound cliché, or like ministry-speak, but I have learned I’ve got nothing without the Lord’s help.

Anyone can SAY that, of course. But we experience this daily, and boy, does that drive it home. To quote C.S. Lewis, who did not have a radio show on ESPN but did have on on the BBC, “Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.”

So here’s to us, the Jockers of the Discs. True, when they do those “Most Respected Occupations” surveys, we usually don’t squeeze in the top ten. But that’s okay. Everybody THINKS they can do what we do. (“Shoot, I’m great at talking! Everybody says I’m funny! It’s easy!”)

But most just can’t. And if you are passionate about using this medium to communicate the Kingdom effectively, it’s an extremely difficult job. It’s TOUGH, darn it.

Maybe some oil rig workers will read this and beat me up for saying that, but that’s okay. I’d like to see them try to simultaneously work out how to backtime to hit the top of the hour while they’re spiritually encouraging everybody.

Bring it on. Oil Rig People vs. Disc-Jockeying People might be brutal for us as a fight but think of the content we’ll have for the show tomorrow!

God bless you on National Disc-Jockey Day. Or Disc-Jockey Eve. Whenever you’re reading this. Whatever.

Love,

Brant