In 1985, my radio career was soaring. I was co-hosting the hugely successful WQMF-FM morning radio "Show With No Name." My partner Ron Clay was a shrewd, sardonic, soured-on-life hippie guy. He was brilliant and always had something clever to throw out on the air. We could finish each other's sentences with goofy riffs about society, celebrities, and politicians. We did outrageous things. We used sound effects to make it seem as if we were broadcasting from around the world. We lied a lot. We giggled at each other's provocative setups. We were juvenile delinquents trapped in grownup bodies. Rude boys throwing conventional broadcast techniques out the window. Radio stations in Los Angeles, New York, and Philadelphia sent employment inquiries. None of those