I took my first flight as a guest on the Mothership Connection radio show last Sunday night, as promised. It was a memorable experience for me in the most pleasant of ways, and I do hope the audience felt the same. Made all the more memorable by the congeniality of the crew: Dobie, Shelley, and Greg.
This was actually my second appearance on the show, the first being by telephone in July with a not-so-hot connection on my end. I think the phrase I used most on that phone call was, “Pardon me?” I have no idea what else I said. The coup-de-something occurred when I hung up, thinking the show was over. They called me back, apologizing for cutting me off. I said, “Oh that’s all right, I hung up on you.” I didn’t know we were live when they called back and the show had another hour to go.
Nevertheless, Dobie insisted that the show went well and they wanted me back.
The difference between being a guest on the phone and a guest in the Mothership itself is the vibe. The crew is very conscious of the vibration. It took me about 30 minutes to pick it up and then it seemed like we went into overdrive, possibly hyperdrive. I lost most of my sense of time except for the regular automatic news interruptions.
There are more similarities between The Mothership of Dobie and The Mothership of George besides the name. Although my knowledge of George Clinton and his music is scant, I’ve been told that Clinton’s live performances were incredible works of art. How he directed his musicians according to the vibe of the moment and how every concert was unique.
Dobie and the rest of the crew do a similar thing with radio, gliding on the vibe, guiding the ship with intelligence and wit. They have a keen sense of when to drill down on the serious and when to lighten up with a joke.
There are no limits on the Mothership except those laid down by the FCC. Whatever goes goes, one riff after another.
It was loads of fun and the best part of all is: They’ve asked me to come back again.