Joey
All Night
Former Hartford `Shock' Jock Joey Reynolds Back On
Track In The Big Apple
November 10, 2002
By PAT SEREMET,
COURANT STAFF WRITER
One night not long ago, I
happened to wake up to find Joey Reynolds.
Reynolds on the radio was a welcome sound. I didn't
want to hear sports and sports and more boring
sports. I didn't need to follow the weird
extra-terrestrial sightings on the Art Bell show.
Reynolds was familiar, freewheeling, a favorite
voice from Hartford's past. This night, he offered a
stream-of-consciousness party during which people
popped up from Broadway shows or stand-up comedy
gigs. They joked, they laughed, they opined, all
without getting heavy.
Originating from WOR-AM (710) in New York and
syndicated live to 200 stations, including WDRC-AM
(1360), Reynolds' show is very New York in its
refreshing political incorrectness, its melting pot
accents and its constant talk about ethnic food.
I became hooked.
Now I actually occasionally interrupt my sleep so I
can wake up "en nuit" to fight ennui with
Reynolds.
Still The Same Old Joey
"Go down to Port Authority, and get me a
guest," Reynolds shouts to the folks in the
control booth on a slow night. Even in the city that
never sleeps, you can't count on a constant stream
of visitors from midnight to 5 a.m., which is when
Reynolds broadcasts.
Reynolds has no fear. He was a "shock"
jock before there was such a thing.
He started his career in Buffalo, where he was born
Joey Pinto. Buffalo was also where he was first
fired. His moves took him to Hartford, where he was
also fired. Hey, he's been fired almost more than
he's been hired. (WDRC alone fired him twice.) Once
considered the No. 1 disc jockey in America - one
who actually has a place in the Rock and Roll Hall
of Fame in Cleveland - Reynolds also had stints in
Philly, Detroit and Miami. He's been happily at home
in New York City for seven years.
Reynolds is well remembered in Hartford and still
gets calls from the area, sometimes from people who
recall that they were members of his fan club called
the Royal Order of Night People. What was naughty
back then would hardly raise an eyebrow today. For
example, Reynolds got in trouble with management at
WDRC for letting Kit & the Outlaws'
"Midnight Hour" skip continuously on the
air for two hours, bringing police to the studio,
where Reynolds had locked himself in. He was later
suspended from WDRC for calling Hartford's mayor
"a dumb broad."
Dick Robinson, a former disc jockey himself and now
president of the Connecticut School of Broadcasting,
remembers Reynolds' return to the station.
"The first thing he did when he came back was
to say, `This is Joey. And she's still a dumb
broad,' without mentioning her by name," says
Robinson, who was then chief announcer at WDRC,
later its vice president and station manager.
"He invented the world `dysfunctional' - you
name it, he was on it," Robinson says of
Reynolds' old proclivities for using drugs and
alcohol. "But he's still a love. The guy was a
real talent, a funny son of a gun. He gave me my
first drink, a 1970 scotch with Galliano - at 12
noon."
Robinson tells the story of Reynolds' being fired
from WKBW in his hometown of Buffalo. "It's one
for the books," he says. "Reynolds hung
his shoes on the [office] door of the station's head
and says: 'Try to fill these, you
[expletive].'"
Reynolds says he's always loved the job. He loves
the music, and he loves the fans. What he's hated
over the years is management, which he says is
always playing politics. That's part of the appeal
of the current WOR hours, he says - management
pretty much ignores him.
Reynolds had earlier trouble in Buffalo when, after
interviewing singer Brenda Lee, he said over the
intro to her next record, "You know, Brenda has
acne."
It was impolite but mild by today's standards - when
radio jocks dare people to have sex in St. Patrick's
Cathedral and then tape it for broadcast.
Another story from Buffalo: Impressionist Frank
Gorshin was in town for a telethon, but he refused
to do any impressions for Reynolds when he appeared
on his show. Reynolds kept pushing him, and Gorshin
huffed off. That's when Reynolds told listeners that
the comic was getting paid to do the telethon and
didn't want to perform on radio without being paid.
That performance was followed by 30 years of silence
between the two.
But now that Gorshin is on Broadway doing a one-man
show as George Burns, Reynolds is hosting him, all
kissed and made up.
These days, Reynolds favors fun and walking on the
edge with the people who are there with him in the
studio. A lot has changed since those dysfunctional
days when a strung-out Reynolds had a reputation for
going "bonkers on the air."
"When I was in Hartford, everybody smoked pot
in Hartford," he says.
Along with his comedic moments of hilarity with
guests, Reynolds talks openly of his own recovery.
It was his recovery that made his current career
possible.
"Seventeen years ago, he got sober,"
Robinson says. "He slimmed down. He does yoga.
But he's still the funny Joey."
Robinson had to convince Rick Buckley, president of
Buckley Broadcasting, which includes WOR and WDRC,
to hire him back. Although Buckley had a policy of
not recycling people, Robinson assured him that
Reynolds had straightened out, so when Buckley had
an opening for an overnight show, he signed him up.
"He had a very checkered career," says
Wayne Mulligan, vice president and general manager
of WDRC-AM. "But he's calmed down and become
spiritual."
So spiritual that the former jockey known from
sometimes smashing records on the air has a cause.
It's the DeSisto School in Stockbridge, Mass., which
is for troubled teens and, he likes to add,
"troubled parents." His daughter Mercedes
is a student there. Reynolds, who is divorced, also
has another daughter, Kristen.
The school's philosophy is to treat the whole
family, and the emphasis is on parental involvement.
Reynolds doesn't just espouse the ideals; he also
brings in the bucks. With his connections, he brings
heavy hitters from the music world to the school for
a fund-raiser at the Stockbridge Cabaret. In May, he
plans a huge fund-raising event aboard the Intrepid
aircraft carrier anchored in New York City.
Since he began manning WOR's all-night throne,
Reynolds talks regularly by phone to friends like
Les Paul, musician and father of the Les Paul
acoustic guitar, and comedian Soupy Sales. There is
very seldom a
"thank-you-for-taking-my-call" person who
gets through. Reynolds' show is more about the here
and now, the latest performer from Broadway or
off-Broadway, or whoever's trying out a new shtick
on the stand-up comedy circuit.
So, what's a devout fan to do? Make the pilgrimmage.
Hands-On Experience
Here I am, in early autumn, visiting Reynolds in his
New York studio an hour before showtime. It's true,
I get a slice of the famous Joey Reynolds cheesecake
that he sells at Stew Leonard's in Norwalk (all
proceeds go to the DeSisto School), and I am in
heaven. The cake is creamy, goo-fully delicious,
just as it's described by cake-eating guests on the
show.
We talk. We have a really nice chat about WDRC and
the old days and about how Morton Downey Jr. was his
dear friend who first got him to come to Hartford by
telling him he was sure of a job at WPOP, where
Downey said he was program director. "We're
going to revolutionize radio," Reynolds says
Downey told him. "I'm going to make you a
star."
"So I come to Hartford, Mort's living at the
YMCA. He's not a program director, and I'm jobless
in Hartford."
Downey, whom Reynolds describes as "a
pathological liar," eventually found him a spot
at WPOP as a night fill-in, and he got to prove his
disc jockey mettle there.
"Hartford was the No. 1 breakout market for
music," Reynolds says. "We made stars -
that's what we did."
Reynolds recalls the excitement of being the first
to introduce "Sherry" by the Four Seasons
to the air. It went on to sell 8 million records.
"There wouldn't be the Four Seasons without
WPOP," he says.
What's weird is that Reynolds, sloppily dressed in a
sweatshirt (hey, it's late, and it's radio), excuses
himself a half-hour before the show starts and curls
up in a walk-in closet for "a power nap."
He crawls into a black sleeping bag that has his
name on it and the words: Shhh - Please Don't Wake
Me - I Work All Night. Next to him is a framed
photograph of Joan Rivers, whose face, he says,
scares him enough to wake him up.
Just my luck. On my visit to his show, I don't get
the late-night comics like Pat Cooper and funny men
fresh from the Friars' Club roasts.
No, the night I happen to visit, I get Yasuto
Nishitani. He reads palms. He's Japanese. He doesn't
speak English. But he is touted as "the world's
greatest palm reader." He has an interpreter,
but this is rough radio terrain.
Reynolds winces as Nishitani runs his fingers up and
down his hands and speaks - in Japanese.
This is not good radio.
And Reynolds knows it.
Still, Reynolds makes the most of it and laughs.
Amazingly enough, Nishitani shows up as a guest
again a couple of months later, so call me crazy.
Luckily, J. Jay Boyd, a stand-up comic who's one of
the regulars, shows up and pipes up during the
mysterious Japanese palmistry, "Joey is getting
a really good hand job."
Myra Chanin, another regular, is unfortunately
vacationing in Puerto Rico during my visit.
Affectionately known as "Mother
Wonderful," Chanin amusingly inserts her Jewish
mother persona, whenever she's not talking about
groping the male guests.
It's a tough night for Reynolds. He's also got an
author on board, and he hates authors. They tend to
be so self-absorbed, self-promotional and boring. So
he refuses to interview them in the traditional way.
Instead of talking about the book, he tries to get
at the author and what makes him tick.
During commercials, while we plow away at the
Chinese take-out food, he talks about a new project
he and Boyd have - producing videos for taxi cabs.
They're funny bits about New York, not ads, not
news, not about 9/11, just fun. They're only in
about 35 cabs now but expected to be in 1,000 cabs
by the end of the year.
That is what Reynolds is about.
What Reynolds likes best is when everybody's
talking, everybody's laughing. He's live from New
York. He loves New York. And he delivers the city to
anybody insane enough to be listening after
midnight.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
