…because it’s FRIDAY! FRIDAY! FRIDAY! FRIDAY!
In the mid 1970s as Cleveland plummeted in its decline and eventual default, Murray Saul took to the airwaves; forever changing the way Clevelanders of that time, released themselves from the shackles of the workday grind and the clutches of that beady-eyed Slavedriver.
Immediately after Kid Leo played Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” Friday nights at 6, the “Get Down” officially kicked off the weekend in Northern Ohio. It’s FRIDAY! FRIDAY! FRIDAY! FRIDAY! Time to grab your honey, speak some Spanish, twist a few tunahs, turn your rack into something wonderful and enjoy the easy life in a non-stop partying world where sleep is out of the question and the where the weekends are longer than the weeks. In Cleveland, National Bee Week never ended.
The script for the “Get Down” was written during the week. Sometimes it was assembled in pieces and other times we knocked it out in one-take. There was no method to the madness – just madness. We would start preparing it over lunch.. To keep our perspectives fresh, we tried to pick a different spot every week – east side, west side or south side. When time didn’t allow for travel, we’d do it at Jim’s Steak House, by the Eagle Street bridge, in what was then the industrial section of Flats.
Inspiration came ubiquitously – from our listeners, the news, the music, and even personal experience.
The “Get Down” was written on a legal pad – always using a brown-ink felt-tip pen (I don’t recall the reason for that – you’d have to ask Murray). When completed, we’d return to WMMS and I’d type it up on my circa World War II Smith Corona (eventually, we did go electric).
About a half-hour before the “Get Down,” Murray and anyone else wishing to join, would make a quick jaunt to the parking lot, pick a car, twist a tunah, and get into the proper mode for delivery. After the break, Murray went to the production studio, where last-minute changes would be made to the script while “Born to Run” was reaching its climax.
Since all of the “Get Downs” were taped and archived for posterity, the scripts were usually tossed. Here’s a rare exception – the first page to one of the few that weren’t.