No, no, don't start fiddling with the dials trying to find me anywhere; this is all ancient history.
I actually made my talk radio debut when I was all of 13 years old. I grew up just outside of Cincinnati, and AM radio was dominated by WLW. During the era of my youth, on evenings when the Reds weren't playing baseball, the station had a goofball host whose show topics were random and bizarre. His most frequent caller was a "Kenny from Norwood" who always sounded half-drunk and whose commentary was just this side of FCC-approved. (I have occasionally wondered, in retrospect, whether "Kenny from Norwood" was not a "character"; if so, someone managed to pull off years of quality performance art.)
My debut was calling into that show one evening when the topic was things paranormal. I was on a bit of an obsessive kick about aliens, having read a few of those Whitney Streiber and Budd Hopkins books and some others that, in my pre-rational adolescence, had me convinced that such outlandish fables were possible. I don't remember who the guest was, but my 13-year-old self one evening had a significant (for me, at the time) conversation with the host and the guest about The Grays and what threats they may pose to our society.
I'm not proud; just being honest here.
At any rate, that host was named Bill Cunningham. It surprised me to learn that in the years since he's been partially syndicated and that apparently people all over the country--including Sean Hannity, on whose TV program Cunningham often appears--take him seriously.
However, it has not surprised me to learn that Cunningham regularly makes an ass out of himself these days supporting McCain and opposing Obama. I have to say, it shames me to have once been associated with that man, even if I was 13. At least I grew up.