Wednesday marked the 10th anniversary of my final “Evening Jazz” broadcast for KCHO, or North State Public Radio. Of all the things I did in my final days in Chico, this stands out the most as I look back a decade later.

Part of it might be because I’ve been listening recently to archived Jazz Fest broadcasts from WWOZ. Those sets have really satisfied my love for live music and the New Orleans sound. One day, I must get to NoLa (and London and Tokyo …)

That final broadcast wrapped up a student and community broadcasting tenure covering nearly 14 years — two at KSDT while at UC San Diego, four in Michigan for WMTU and about eight for KCHO. I started as a student disc jockey in San Diego and then volunteered to be a community DJ for WMTU student radio and was ultimately a community volunteer for the NPR member station in Chico.

I always liked the thought of my voice and music selections going out to a geographic area the size of Ohio. That was for North State Public Radio. The smallest footprint was probably going out over college dorm powerlines for KSDT (which was also available over cable in San Diego County, but you needed an adapter to filter out the FM signal).

From my earliest broadcasts at the Old Student Center to my final show in a studio by the banks of Big Chico Creek, I really liked the idea of using my shows to explore the world of music with the late focus on jazz and blues with “Evening Jazz” during the week and sometimes “Blues People” on Saturdays. I hope I was able to impart my joy at this course of discovery with listeners. It was always fun when they called in.

(A rare exception is when I went slightly off format for an April Fools’ Day episode of “Evening Jazz,” where I aired tracks with the artists’ names starting with every letter of the alphabet from A-Z. That led to an angry listener response to my programming director. The listener thought I was somehow being lazy — although finding ideal tracks from artists that followed the alphabet was actually more challenging than a regular show.)

All these years later, I still miss radio, but I think curling has taken over as my non-professional pastime. I still have the opportunity to get behind a mic when I do play-by-play commentary for regional curling tournaments, but it’s not the same.

There was just something enjoyable about getting to the station early to roam the tall shelves of CDs and vinyl to pull out discs that caught my ear. If there was time, I would put a disc in the CD player and listen to get a sense of what the album was about.

On a good night, I could pull out twice as many albums as I had time to get on the air. That doesn’t include listener requests that I would do my best to track down and broadcast, even if the song didn’t fit the flow of the show. However, what’s jazz without a little syncopation?

I did have my favorites,  but I hope that I didn’t overplay them. I did try to mix them up while also trying to rationalize that any particular track was just a couple minutes in a two- or three-hour program.

The final show

My last edition of “Evening Jazz” was pretty much all favorites, reflecting my years of spinning tunes. (The program had a stable of volunteer DJs, so the show continued after my departure).

As I recall, we were asked to arrive early to get ready to go on the air. Sometimes, I would arrive before this time and have a chance to focus on my musical selections. It was easier on Fridays when we often had a national program airing at 9 p.m. and I was only responsible for doing a couple of reads during that hour before hosting a two-hour local program.

For my final Friday (which had become a  three-hour show), I arrived close to on time but it was the end of a hectic last day at my day job (which I quit!) where my coworkers took me out to lunch and said good-byes. In between all that, I was trying to write stories and clean my desk. I ended up working through the weekend to get everything done.

When I arrived at the station, I asked the other person on duty if there was a way to record the program. I used to occasionally record the livestream at home, but the app had stopped working and I didn’t have time to find another solution.

Unfortunately, the staffer didn’t know how to set up the recording so my last episode would just exist on the airwaves. I was bummed but resigned to the reality of the situation.

I gathered the albums I wanted to play. I started the show with Kermit Ruffins’ “Hello Good Evening,” which was how I often began my “Evening Jazz” broadcasts before changing it up after a while.

As I went on the air, I went to sign the station log and noticed that there were personalized messages thanking me and wishing me luck. I was touched and reminded of how much my service was appreciated by the station staff.

My playlist, linked below, covered the various eras of jazz that caught my ear over the years. Some of them were standards, but some of them were novelty songs that made me laugh, such as “A Hot Dog, a Blanket and You.”

Ultimately, not all of the songs were five stars, but I wanted to play and hear every track that got on the air — and that applied to every broadcast I did. During breaks, I recalled some of my broadcasting history and musical journey going back to San Diego. I also reflected on some of my broadcast influences, including “The Desoto Hour” on Georgia Tech’s WREK and all of the broadcasts on WWOZ.

As my time on the air wound down, I picked out a couple of songs that I felt echoed the journey I was about to undertake to my new job in Utah. Those songs included Vince Guaraldi’s “Cast Your Fate to the Wind” and a Mo’ Horizons cover of “Hit the Road Jack.”

It was great fun spinning tunes, reading public service announcements while timing songs to ensure there was enough time to play the national anthem before turning things over to the BBC World Service at precisely midnight.

In a weird quirk, nearly all of my shows either marked the start of the station’s live broadcast day or the end. Broadcast stations used to air a patriotic song to mark either the start or end of the day. That was something I paid homage to, even as nearly every station moved to airing 24/7. In later years, I would often play a Duke Ellington version of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which I felt fit the jazz format.

Ultimately, I wish there was a way to convey the joy and contentment I nearly always felt during and after my show.

Ten years later, I would love to get back into broadcasting, but I don’t think I have the time with work and curling. There was a job posting for a classical music station in Arizona that caught my eye (and an operations manager post for a jazz station in Iowa), but they’re not something I can pursue right now.

Maybe one day.