I found the quotes from Howard and John Hayes interesting.
Howard Stern's foot is swollen and bandaged and he hobbles through his split-level house in Manhasset Hills, L.I., on a pair of crutches.
''It's a good thing I did it jogging last Saturday,'' said Mr. Stern, New York's most popular radio performer until his dismissal last Monday by WNBC-AM, ''or you'd think it was psychosomatic.''
''Tell the truth, Howard,'' countered his wife, Allison. ''They threw you out of the building.''
In the days since WNBC canceled a program that had attracted more than one million listeners a week, according to Arbitron ratings, the station says it has received more than 1,000 calls, most politely critical of the station, and 30 calling for the general manager's ouster as well.
The general manager, John P. Hayes, conceded that the dismissal ''could be suicidal'' but said he hoped ''none of us fall into the trap of thinking ratings are everything.''
'I Belong Here'
The outcry delights Mr. Stern. ''This is a city,'' he said, ''where a guy is running down the street on fire and people say, 'Oh, God, I wish he'd go to the other side of the street.' I don't think a lot of things get a reaction like this in New York. It makes an artist feel like, man, I belong here. It goes beyond a dopey radio show.'' Since his hiring in 1982, WNBC sold Howard Stern - and his morning counterpart, Don Imus - with advertising built around the slogan, ''If we weren't so bad, we wouldn't be so good.''
''That's part of the allure of the Howard Stern character,'' said Mr. Hayes.
''It's not like they weren't encouraging,'' said Mr. Stern, whose program depended on raunchy jokes and ethnic gibes. ''They'd say, 'Congratulations, some advertiser just paid $850 a minute! Congratulations, you have a 5.7 rating! Congratulations, here's a new contract!' ''
''They even promoted the fact that I was radio's bad boy,'' he added. ''The issue isn't, 'Gee, isn't Howard disgusting? Didn't Howard go overboard?' If that's the case, I went overboard two years ago.''
'It's Their Station'
Asked the precise reason for the dismissal, when Mr. Stern has a year and a half remaining on a contract that guarantees him a reported $200,000 a year, Mr. Hayes said, ''There was no one incident that led up to this.'' He praised Mr. Stern as an ''extremely talented, professional'' performer.
''It's just that over the course of time we made a very conscious effort to make Howard aware that certain elements of the program should be changed,'' Mr. Hayes said. ''I don't think it's appropriate to say what the specifics were.''
There was a complaint a few months ago, Mr. Stern recalled, that he was tardy with traffic reports, but ''I've never been one to follow format,'' he said.
And there were objections raised to his quirky notions of humor.
When the Rev. Jesse Jackson referred to New York as ''Hymietown'' during the 1984 Presidential campaign, Mr. Stern wrote a parody tune with the same name, sung by a Frank Sinatra sound-alike. But he said he had stopped playing the song after a lecture from management.
When he invited a man with unusual sexual tastes to call the '''Dial-a-Date'' segment of his show, Mr. Stern said, he agreed to a request from higher-ups that the caller be identified merely as a lover of animals.
''There were a million instances where they said they weren't comfortable with a topic,'' Mr. Stern continued, ''and a million instances where I said, 'O.K., let's pull it.' Censorship is O.K. It's their station.''
Mr. Stern said that two months ago WNBC renegotiated the remainder of his contract. ''They gave me a monumental raise, a limousine,'' he said.
He rejects the notion that his humor - often directed at blacks, Jews or homosexuals - was objectionable. Instead, he calls it ''reality radio,'' an honest alternative to the ''good guy mentality.''
The charge of racism - not made by station officials - especially rankles Mr. Stern. He was raised in Roosevelt, L.I., in a predominantly black area where his parents remained long after most of their white neighbors had moved elsewhere, he said. ''I do good black dialect because that's how you talked in Roosevelt if you wanted to be accepted,'' Mr. Stern said.
FOR 'RADIO'S BAD BOY,' THIS ISN'T PRIME TIME
October 5, 1985Howard Stern's foot is swollen and bandaged and he hobbles through his split-level house in Manhasset Hills, L.I., on a pair of crutches.
''It's a good thing I did it jogging last Saturday,'' said Mr. Stern, New York's most popular radio performer until his dismissal last Monday by WNBC-AM, ''or you'd think it was psychosomatic.''
''Tell the truth, Howard,'' countered his wife, Allison. ''They threw you out of the building.''
In the days since WNBC canceled a program that had attracted more than one million listeners a week, according to Arbitron ratings, the station says it has received more than 1,000 calls, most politely critical of the station, and 30 calling for the general manager's ouster as well.
The general manager, John P. Hayes, conceded that the dismissal ''could be suicidal'' but said he hoped ''none of us fall into the trap of thinking ratings are everything.''
'I Belong Here'
The outcry delights Mr. Stern. ''This is a city,'' he said, ''where a guy is running down the street on fire and people say, 'Oh, God, I wish he'd go to the other side of the street.' I don't think a lot of things get a reaction like this in New York. It makes an artist feel like, man, I belong here. It goes beyond a dopey radio show.'' Since his hiring in 1982, WNBC sold Howard Stern - and his morning counterpart, Don Imus - with advertising built around the slogan, ''If we weren't so bad, we wouldn't be so good.''
''That's part of the allure of the Howard Stern character,'' said Mr. Hayes.
''It's not like they weren't encouraging,'' said Mr. Stern, whose program depended on raunchy jokes and ethnic gibes. ''They'd say, 'Congratulations, some advertiser just paid $850 a minute! Congratulations, you have a 5.7 rating! Congratulations, here's a new contract!' ''
''They even promoted the fact that I was radio's bad boy,'' he added. ''The issue isn't, 'Gee, isn't Howard disgusting? Didn't Howard go overboard?' If that's the case, I went overboard two years ago.''
'It's Their Station'
Asked the precise reason for the dismissal, when Mr. Stern has a year and a half remaining on a contract that guarantees him a reported $200,000 a year, Mr. Hayes said, ''There was no one incident that led up to this.'' He praised Mr. Stern as an ''extremely talented, professional'' performer.
''It's just that over the course of time we made a very conscious effort to make Howard aware that certain elements of the program should be changed,'' Mr. Hayes said. ''I don't think it's appropriate to say what the specifics were.''
There was a complaint a few months ago, Mr. Stern recalled, that he was tardy with traffic reports, but ''I've never been one to follow format,'' he said.
And there were objections raised to his quirky notions of humor.
When the Rev. Jesse Jackson referred to New York as ''Hymietown'' during the 1984 Presidential campaign, Mr. Stern wrote a parody tune with the same name, sung by a Frank Sinatra sound-alike. But he said he had stopped playing the song after a lecture from management.
When he invited a man with unusual sexual tastes to call the '''Dial-a-Date'' segment of his show, Mr. Stern said, he agreed to a request from higher-ups that the caller be identified merely as a lover of animals.
''There were a million instances where they said they weren't comfortable with a topic,'' Mr. Stern continued, ''and a million instances where I said, 'O.K., let's pull it.' Censorship is O.K. It's their station.''
Mr. Stern said that two months ago WNBC renegotiated the remainder of his contract. ''They gave me a monumental raise, a limousine,'' he said.
He rejects the notion that his humor - often directed at blacks, Jews or homosexuals - was objectionable. Instead, he calls it ''reality radio,'' an honest alternative to the ''good guy mentality.''
The charge of racism - not made by station officials - especially rankles Mr. Stern. He was raised in Roosevelt, L.I., in a predominantly black area where his parents remained long after most of their white neighbors had moved elsewhere, he said. ''I do good black dialect because that's how you talked in Roosevelt if you wanted to be accepted,'' Mr. Stern said.
