In a Philly Mood WDAS 1993

by T A Malone

In the fall of 1993, I had the honor of being an intern at the legendary Philadelphia, Pa. radio station WDAS during my 5^th and final year of college. What started off as a classical music station in 1959, became what is now known as Urban Contemporary in 1971 and has remained a local favorite since. WDAS helped spread the “Philadelphia Sound”, which lead to disco and introduced the world to artists such as The O’Jay’s, Teddy Pendergrass and Patti La Belle.

Quick side bar…I highly, highly, highly recommend having some of Ms. La Belle’s vanilla topped pound cake. Ma’am, from the bottom of my heart and ever ready tummy, thank you…and “If Only You Knew” is one of the greatest songs ever written. But I simply must ask how did you do it? I must know, cause…I never thought I would taste a piece of heaven without it being attached to a woman.

From charitable events, to empowerment rally’s, to just providing some smooth music to listen to on the ride home, WDAS has done some great things for my hometown, and was a great place to work at. I learned a lot, and managed to make a fool out of myself too.

To begin with, I was an intern working for the news department, and helping the still sexy WDAS DJ supreme Mimi Brown in the afternoons. Quick sidebar…working with Mimi was an adventure because I constantly had to cover my mid-section whenever she sashayed on by. She was then and is now a master at her craft, and one of the smartest and sexiest women I have ever met.

I also got to talk to the legendary DJ Joe “Butterball” Tamburro. I got wiser just walking by his office. If you are not familiar with him, look him up, and learn about a classy dude. RIP.

My intern supervisor was the uber cool Tamlin Henry, who was one of the wisest guys I ever worked with. I learned a lot from him, and got to meet some amazing people, with sometimes funny results.

The first involved a simple misunderstanding.

At the time there was a reporter for either the Philadelphia Inquirer, or Daily News named Vanessa Williams, who called the news room looking for Tamlin. I took the message from the captivating receptionist at the front, and sat it on Tamlin’s desk. I didn’t read the note, I just dropped it off. So when Tamlin came in, he asked, “Well, which on?” I looked at him, dumbfounded, which, sad to say happened a lot in the beginning of my internship. “Uh,” was my articulate reply.

“Which Vanessa man,” he asked whipping out his not so little black book held closed by a rubber band whose elastic was stretched to its limits. “Vanessa from the paper, or Vanessa?”

Well, like I said before, I only knew one Vanessa, so I responded accordingly.

About five minutes later, the following occurred…

“Thank you for calling WDAS. How can I help you?” I said answering the phone.

“Is this Terry?” a silky voice asked.

“Yeah,” I responded dropping my voice a little lower for tha’ lady.

“Hi, this is Vanessa Williams, is Tamlin there?”

I swear to God, this is how I responded…”I-I-I-I-I-uh-uh-uh-I-uh-I-uh,”

Laughing hysterically Tamlin took the phone from me and the lead news man, another cool brother whose name was Dave, patted me on the shoulder. “Smooth,” he said trying not to laugh too hard.

Tamlin, who was too busy laughing to speak to the beauty at the other end of the phone, put it on speaker as he tried to recover from hysteria. I then heard the lovely Vanessa L. Williams say “I blew that brotha’s mind didn't I?” as she laughed like an angel.

I wasn’t always so clumsy when I handled the phones at WDAS.

I successfully interviewed former Heath Secretary Donna Shalala, and other local & national politicians, and entertainers whose publicist shuffled them our way. I would do the interview, edit out my voice, and make drops for Dave, Tamlin and the weekend news guy. In the afternoon, I would help Mimi out with getting music, food, and any thing else she needed. Hell it was Mimi. In fact, Mimi cut some drops for my college radio show which were so hot, one guy called me asking for her number. As I helped Mimi I met entertainers such as Jodi Watley, Teddy Pendergrass, and Pam Grier. 

Pam Grier…damn.

You gotta understand, Pam Grier was my first Hollywood crush. I remember seeing her on the Mike Douglas Show when I was four years old.

Yeah…I started young.

My “love” for her continued, for around the age of 12-13, I found a Player’s magazine with a pictorial of Ms Grier that I coveted as if it were gold. And no, the pages never got sticky, or even wrinkled. I kept it with my collection of comic books in a plastic sleeve.

See, she was the epitome of beauty for me at the time. And for a guy who only ever saw naked white women –Playboy, Penthouse, porn etc- seeing a naked black woman, with her body, that was something memorable. I also kept the Sports Illustrated with Tyra Banks on the cover and the Playboy featuring the first Black Playmate of the Year Renee Tennison.

But Pam, she was the first. 

In addition to probably being the inspiration behind the Commodores hit song Brickhouse, Pam Grier was/is a savvy business woman, multi talented entertainer, smart, and classy lady. I always had a crush on her, and saw the movie Posse just because she was in it. Heck up until six years ago, I had a video tape of the two Miami Vice episodes she appeared in, and was and still am mad jealous of Philip Michael Thomas.

But in 1993, God, allowed me a simple pleasure.

It was around five one evening at the station, and the sun had already set over my favorite city. I was done for the day, getting ready to go to my night job, which I hated. Come on, all day long I worked with local celebs, politicians and other cool folks. My night job involved typing receipts for some government agency, which was about as much fun as watching paint dry. There was this one sexy, witty woman in her forties who worked there and…oh nevermind…back to Pam.

Just as I put on my coat to leave, Tamlin walked in with a smile on his face, “Come on T,” he said. “I want you to meet a legend,”

I heard her laugh before I even got to the hallway, and her familiar voice which could melt half of Alaska spoke. “Oh Tamlin come on now,”

It was Pam Grier.

She was promoting a play she was doing in New Jersey and had come to WDAS to visit. She knew half the staff, and they just loved her. And I was in love the moment she smiled at me.

 “Hi” she said pleasantly after I introduced myself, not realizing how tall she was. “You look a little young to know about me,”

“What?” I said all too comfortable in her presence, because that’s just the energy she radiated. “Ms Grier you are one of my favorites! I saw you in Posse, Miami Vice, Foxy Brown, and my dad had a Player’s mag-”

Mimi laughed loudly as I caught myself, far too late. Tamilin started laughing, and Dave…Dave just shook his head.

“Smooth,” he said.

But despite my flub, the smile on Pam Grier’s face was one I would never forget. “Now, aren’t you a little young to be reading that?”

It was at that moment that my favorite image from that pictorial flashed in my mind. “Uh,” I said oh so articulately. “No,”

“I don’t think he read it,” Tamilin said, and then we all laughed, and she touched my shoulder. “It’s ok baby,” she said still cracking up.

Wow, I made Pam Grier laugh. That was cool.

And that sums up WDAS...a place of wisdom, music and well, just plain coolness. 

Riding Along

by TA Malone 

In my mind, there is nothing wrong with riding a bus. In fact many of the most memorable moments in my life revolved around riding public transportation and women. And this morning, as I reminisced, three moments in particular came to my mind.

They all happened in my hometown of Philadelphia, PA with the first occurring during my third year in college. I was riding the C bus one morning, when a young lady got on wearing a white blouse, black mini skirt and sneaks. Right away her outfit held my attention and I discreetly enjoyed the sight of her cute little socks with the furry ball at the back of the ankle as she paid her fare. And as she walked to the back of the bus, I enjoyed the gentle sway of her hips and the slight whiff of the perfume she wore. 

She gave me a smile, and I gave her a nod as the bus began to move. She was pretty, with butterscotch skin, and jet black hair. Her eyes or contacts were hazel just adding to her beauty. She sat demurely, smoothing out her skirt before placing a nicely rounded backside onto a very lucky seat. I went back to listening to Ice Cube on my Sony Discman –yes this was a while back early 1990's- and staring out the window as Broad Street passed me by. I heard paper unwrapping, but paid it no mind, and enjoyed listening to Cube rap about how good the day was.

My disc skipped as the bus ran over a pothole. I looked down to push the button to start the song over, and then I looked up at the beauty nearby.

She was sucking a lollypop. A Tootsie Roll to be exact.

And not just sucking it…she was killing it. And her actions just seemed to fit the music blaring in my ears…

Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God

I don’t know but today seems kinda odd

Her thick tongue entwined around the sucker, licking and slurping on that Tootsie Roll as if her life depended on it. For about five seconds I stared hypnotized by her actions, before I snapped my head around, and adjusted my crotch as discreetly as I could.

I swore I heard her snicker, but went back to Cube:

Lookin’ in my mirror and not a jacker in sight

Got a beep from Kim and she can fuck-

The young beauty coughed and I looked over to see her slide her lips over the cherry ball of sugar and work her tongue around and around as it sat in her mouth. I could not believe it; for the first time in my life, I was envious of a piece of candy.

Then, her eyes met mine.

Now remember, they were striking, and had me hypnotized from minute one. Now was no different, only now, my 22 year old ass was rock hard and thinking how after all this I could get her phone number.

Then she smiled, and pulled the lollypop from between her succulent lips with a resounding pop.

“Last stop!” the bus driver roared, “End of the line,”

The woman got up, allowing me a flash of her thick toned thighs. She picked up her bag and looked at me, the pop back between her ruby red lips. “Bye,” she said and got off.

I thought about baseball for a few more moments before I followed suit, my gym bag strategically covering my enlarged crotch. I still had a chance to get the digits, or so I thought, for with some regret and a lot of lust, I watched the beauty climb into a car, and a guy around my age driving off, who was I am sure, well aware he was dating Muffy the Lollypop Slayer.

Another moment found me on a train, sitting across from a very naturally pretty woman. She wore a dark colored skirt, which fell just above her knees and very little is any makeup. She too wore sneakers, and our eyes met on more than one occasion, but I would just smile, for the wedding ring on her finger looked as if it were worth more money that my student loans at the time.

But still we would share a glance, for there was nothing else to look at as the subway train rolled along. I figured if I looked down, I could do no harm.

But when I looked down, I saw her legs. It was obvious this Italian beauty worked out, and her thick tan calves looked absolutely tantalizing. I worked my way up to her knees and thighs when the train lurched to a stop and folks got on and off obscuring my view, so I just looked around the train. When the train doors closed and it started up again, I happily went back to her knees, and noticed they were a little farther apart.

I thought nothing of it, and just continued to stare. I looked up and she looked away, a grin on her face, as I looked down again, the gap between her knees was wider.

And…were those panties I saw?

Granted she was older than I was, probably in her early thirties, and still striking. So getting to see between her taught thighs was a surprising pleasure. I had to lick my lips and glance away as the train started to slow down. I looked back and easily saw the pink pattern racing its way across the crotch of her underwear, and when I looked up at her face, the grin she wore was wide and bright. Again the train lurched to a stop and she got off without a word. It was then, and now that I figured she enjoyed the attention from strangers on a train. We all love attention, it lets us know we are still attractive, and provide a daily dose of ego boosting. I was also pretty sure, a very lucky hubby would reap the benefits of her arousal once the kids -if any- were tucked away in bed. 

The last and most memorable public transportation moment, is not so much erotic as romantic.

I sat alone in a pair of blue and beige seats, with my holiday shopping bags between me and the side of a half empty trolley bound for the Sharon Hill area of Pennsylvania when she got on.

The first word that rushed into my brain was regal.

She was maybe 5’6”-5'8” maybe. I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you was she glowed. She radiated that light only some of us have, and with her, it shined bright. At first I could only see the profile of her face, as she stood with her left side facing me while she paid her fare. The long black coat she wore covered her figure, but by the way the midsection curved, there was enough evidence to warrant she at least had a booty. She stood straight and elegantly, and she wore a long dark colored skirt and of course a pair of sneaks blanketed what I imagined were a pristine pair of tootsies. 

One would think she were a descendant of Egyptian Kings and Queens.

Then I saw her face, and…well…years later, Dru Hill wrote a song entitled Beauty which perfectly sums up how I was feeling at that exact moment…

The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name   

 

I mean she was at the time the most beautiful woman I had ever seen that was not on TV, a movie screen, record/CD cover, or a magazine or an ex girlfriend or future wife. She had golden brown skin, green eyes, and light, almost honey colored hair, which blended perfectly with her skin. I couldn't help but to stare, my mouth open, then, sliding into a smile of appreciation for such beauty. 

She did not walk far and just smiled at me as she took a seat near the driver. And wow, she even sat like a queen. Her back was straight and proud as her manicured hands folded over her stylish purse as it sat in her lap. And twice when those captivating green eyes stopped staring forward and glanced my way, I had to take in a breath, and then cough, because I was on a trolley.

I forget where she got off. I know it was before my stop. But watching her leave, while sad, was just as delightful as watching her majestic arrival. Her walk likened her to one who was used to rose petals being bestowed at their feet. She thanked the driver and looked at me in the mirror. My balls took over and I said good-bye. She smiled and said bye as well and got off the bus.

Why I didn’t pursue her, I will never know. I just know she was one heck of a beauty, and that sometimes I really, really miss riding the bus/train/trolley.