Here I am: a college-educated professional in what's usually described as "the affluent Westside." A desirable listener/consumer, one would think.
Yet, once more, I'm being ignored by the business interests of commercial radio. Because I have no patience for the archaic, the banal or the puerile, I had no radio "home" until KEDG's J.J. Jackson (and the cadre of deejays he assembled) put music on the air that I could listen to without punching the channel selector every 30 seconds in frustration.
