Music touched an emotional chord in me that may have been different from most folks.

     Music from an Old Radio Lifts My Spirit

     I was only 12 years old when I got exposed to it. I felt such a swelling up of sadness and joy as certain songs played on the radio. I’d sit for hours. Alone. Just me and an old-fashioned radio positioned on the kitchen table.

     I’d close my eyes and sing along, knowing the words to the most soulful and heart-wrenching music of the day.  And when my folks got concerned, questioning my solitary activity, I’d leave the room, seeking another outlet, another radio in a secluded spot elsewhere.

     There was one station that would play the top 20 of the week. A Black station, WDAS in Philadelphia. Not sure if the disc jockey was Georgy Woods, the “Man with the Goods,” or Jocko Henderson. A song by a local group called “Puppy Love” had just come out, and I’d call in everyday asking those in charge to play it.

Song Enjoyed by Many Listeners like Me

     It got so popular for the North Philadelphia listeners, that it climbed all the way to number one, with my voice being one of the ones used over the radio that week among the many call-in requests.

     Didn’t know someone was taping all phone calls into the radio station at the time. Never heard my voice played back before, although I should have guessed something when I heard other fans speak via the box. This is in the days before stereo, the days of “Hi Fi,” whatever that meant.

The Radio Opened Me to the Sound of Lots of Music

      Reception was usually “not bad” on a good day, to “really bad,” depending on the time of the day or night. The top 20 countdown had gone all the way to nineteen, and I felt rejected. I took it personal that my song, Puppy Love, by Little Jimmy and the Tops, never made it.

Feeling So Low I Felt I Hit Bottom

     I put my head down, cradling it on the arms that covered the table. I felt so low, the floor beneath looked mighty inviting for me to spend the rest of my Life. 

     And then I heard it. “This is Michael Contos,” a scratchy-sounding recording played over the radio. I froze. In shock. Nearly jumping from the chair, wanting so badly to run outside and shout it to the world that I was on the Radio! “That’s me, you’re hearing,” I wanted to grab people on the street and scream it into their faces. It’s my request they’re playing.

Puppy Love is Number 1!

       It’s the most popular song of the week!

     The request lasted just a few seconds. But the smile I get remembering that moment has lasted for years.

     To top it off, I became a small celebrity when appearing in the eighth-grade class at St. Ludwig’s Grade School in Brewerytown the next day. One of the most beautiful girls in the class, Diane Kleinschmidt, smiled at me and told me, rather confidentially, that she had heard me on the radio the night before.

     I was speechless. This gorgeous 12-year-old never looked in my direction before this day. Here, she was making eye contact with me in a way I had not felt before. On the inside. Or the outside.

My Voice Heard and Commented on Very Nicely

      She likes me, I thought. She really likes me.

     Too late. She had started to date JoJo Guiliano, a guy that Philadelphia’s Rocky Balboa might have been modelled had Sylvester Stallone ever met him. Diane and he married and lived happily ever after.

      So did my memory of Puppy Love and my brief moment in the spotlight.

(For a listen, play this: Puppy Love)