Elephant Girl: A Human Story by Jane Devin

Author:Jane Devin [Devin, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2011-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

Forks in the Road, 1980-1981

In 1980, after only a few months of working as an aspiring writer, McClatchy Broadcasting decided to fold Reno magazine, and offered me a job as traffic manager for KOH-AM talk radio. My job was to schedule and rotate commercials according to client contracts. It wasn’t an exciting job, but the program director occasionally let me write promos and do voiceovers when a female voice was needed. There were benefits, too, like medical and dental insurance. I had my cracked teeth bonded and couldn’t stop smiling for days afterward. My smile was white, clean, and unbroken, at least temporarily. The dentist warned me that bonding would only last a few years, and that I’d need to save about $10,000 for a more permanent solution. That thought was daunting, but I was thrilled with my new smile.

I began to think that making a career out of radio, at least until I could find a way to make a living as a writer, wouldn’t be so bad if I could work my way up to a talk show host or promotions director. There was only one woman who had a show of her own, though, and it wasn’t terribly popular.

“The male voice is just better for radio,” one of the DJ’s, Doug, told me. He gave an explanation about how sounds carry through valleys and into transmitters that I didn’t understand, but he assured me that was why listeners would always prefer male voices.

I was happy with my job, but also restless. After three years of searching for a clearer path, there didn’t seem to be any, and I often wondered if this was it—if there was really little else to life than the cycle of going to work, paying bills, doing chores, and an occasional outing on the weekends. Everyone I talked to who had a college degree made it sound like it was easy. Their parents paid, they took loans to pick up the slack, they lived in dorms and sororities, and sometimes they had part-time jobs. It seemed impossible to me to get into college without help, and the counselor at the University of Nevada told me the same thing that counselor at San Jose State had: I needed my parents to fill out financial aid forms, and it didn’t matter what my relationship with them was like, or whether or not I was living on my own.

Shortly after moving back to Reno between my 17th and 18th year, I went to visit MJ with college brochures and paperwork in hand. I called first to let her know I was coming and her voice was resigned, as if she’d just seen me yesterday. It was her day off and the Chief was working and wouldn’t be home for a few hours. I walked into the house and went into the kitchen where she was standing over the sink, wearing her red gingham apron, and peeling potatoes. I said hello and she didn’t turn around. I stared at her back for a few seconds and noticed that she’d grown smaller and older.

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