That Time I Dropped An F Bomb On A Connecticut Radio Station

There's nothing like the thrill of live broadcasting, and there's nothing more terrifying as a broadcaster to hear someone use a swear word or vulgarity around a live microphone. "Let's go Brandon", for example. Even worse, you slip and say one yourself.

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It's happened to me numerous times over the years, and it happened again yesterday. An unsuspecting person dropped the F bomb near my live microphone right as I was talking on the air.

We were out broadcasting live for our annual Camping for Cans food drive from the BJ's parking lot in Brookfield, and hundreds of people stopped by to donate food or cash, and take the time to say hi to us. (Thank you all)

Well, during one of the times where I was talking live, a gentleman came up behind me and started to have a conversation with me as I was live on the air. I think he realized pretty quickly that he was interrupting a broadcast, and he said "Oh F___! I'm sorry". It's a natural reaction, but whoopsie! Luckily, I was talking, and his off-mic, off-color comment was a few feet away, but, wow.

Yesterday, I was lucky, but I wasn't way back in 1991, I had just been hired by Roadwatch Traffic in New Haven to do traffic reports for 95.9 WEFX - The Fox in Norwalk. I used to drive a Dodge Caravan on 95 and the Merritt Parkway and call in live reports via one of those old Motorola bag phones. You remember them? The bag phones that you physically had to hang up in the cradle? I know, I'm old.

Anyway, as you can imagine, cell phone service back in 1991 was nowhere near what it is today. There were so many dead zones, and I was sitting in dead-stop traffic calling into the station's hotline to do live reports in one of those dead-zones. The radio DJ was a great guy named Mike, and he tried to bring me up for a live report, but my phone kept crapping out.

On the third attempt to call in, I could tell that Mike was getting frustrated, and I felt awful. So, the exchange between us went something like this - "All right, let's try to get that traffic report from Dave Bell once again...Dave?" I started the report out "Mike, I'm on 95 Southbound by Exit 18 in Westport -- and then I was gone, the call dropped live on the air again. Out of frustration, I took the phone away from my face, and as I was hanging the phone up into the bag, I screamed out a huge F-bomb.

Well, the phone hadn't dropped out, and Mike had brought me back on the air just in time to hear me scream. I heard him say "Uh...we'll check back with Dave in a little bit". I felt that cold chill go right down my spine, yep, I did it. Visions of going back to work at the Sheraton in Waterbury danced in my head, and I just froze. how could I have been so stupid?

I finally got the feeling in my hands back, and called Mike. He picked up and said "Well Dave, we caught your swear on the air, luckily no one has called to complain, here's some advice, treat your phone like a live microphone, ok?"

God that's tough. I grew up watching George Carlin, Richard Pryor, Eddie Murphy, Robert De Niro & Martin Scorsese, the masters who took spewing vulgarities to the next level. It's terrifying, knowing that there is a possible FCC fine hovering over my head at any moment.