This piece is just so dead on (i before e except after c)

Lust For The Edge
by Jay Trachman

A Family Member called with a question: "Jay, I've been here so long, I'm getting bored and I'm not sure what to do about it. Is that normal?"

No, it's not normal; it's universal. If you're a creative person -- in whatever field -- you eventually reach a point where it starts becoming automatic. What should you do?

In my experience, it's usually not just your job that's in a rut, it's your life. Perhaps the sizzle has gone out of your marriage; you're earning far less than other people you respect; you come home at night and you watch TV until you fall asleep. You've stopped learning how to do new things at work because there's no one to teach you. You're living a dead-end life in a dead end relationship, with a dead-end job. Is that what's troubling you, Bunky?

Well, chin up! Every creative person I know has had these thoughts at one time or another. If you don't, then you probably don't belong in the entertainment biz. Creative people of all types thrive "on the edge," where we're facing real risks, where we get the feeling that our lives depend on our moment-to-moment decisions. We love flying by the seat of our pants.

Sometimes, we create that "edge" for ourselves, not always in the healthiest or most "sensible" way. I took flying lessons, as a surprising number of jocks do. Sometimes we do crazy things on the air, or sass the boss, knowing that we'll probably get fired, and we have no other job to go to. We toss aside relationships. We do alcohol and other drugs, we drive too fast.

We do so many stupid things, for reasons we later can't understand, except for a vague awareness that something "drove us" to it. That something, the common denominator behind all these things, is our lust for the edge.

My advice is to find a relatively "safe" edge, if that's not a contradiction. Make your life busier. Invest yourself in something: take a course, join an organization, start an exercise program or a new hobby or a new romance. That's not always practical; if you're married for ten years and you have three kids, I'd be the last one to suggest you walk out on them. (And yet... nothing makes me more creative than a new romance -- except possibly, the end of an old one.)

There are things you can do on the job, too. Learn sales or production -- make yourself an expert in a related field; it'll give you a whole new perspective on your work. Not to mention, making you more valuable to your present employer and any future one.

Years ago, when I felt that emptiness, like my life had become too mechanical, I invested myself in something related to my job: I bought my first computer and learned how to work it. It was the greatest challenge since my flying days -- and equally satisfying. It revolutionized the way I work and play, and even made me new friends all over the world. I joined the local computer user's group, and volunteered to host a monthly "special interest group" of novice users, at my home. By investing myself in something, I ended my doldrums and opened up a whole array of new horizons. Today, my wife and I get the same kind of thrill by hosting an exchange student – we’re back in the parenting biz!

What can you do, today, on the air? Skirt the boundaries. Try being outrageous once in awhile. Next time you come up with a concept for an incredible produced bit, follow through and do it. Push yourself. Try revealing aspects of your real personality that you never have before, to your listener. Don't get fired, but do try to figure out just how much creativity your boss will tolerate. (You may be surprised.)

A talk with the PD or GM may be called for. Let him or her know you're bored, and want to branch out. Ask for ideas and new responsibilities.

When all else fails -- if none of these "safe" ideas work for you, then maybe it really is time to look for a new job. Start saving airchecks, with a mind toward creating the best audition you possibly can. (That, in itself, ought to perk up your shows.) You're in an ideal position to find a new job: still employed.

Radio is more like a mistress than a job. We're in it for the passion. When the flame dies, you've either got to find a way to re-kindle it, or find a new mistress.

Jay Trachman is publisher of “One to One,” a weekly information and humor service for broadcasters. Jay can be reached at: phone (559) 448 0700, fax (559) 448 0761, e-mail at 121@att.net, or www.121online.net. Reprinted with permission.