Rock Radio - By Lisa Wainland Page 0,9

be found, at home. Dana changed her name as soon as she got into the business. Drew was an easy choice for a last name...it was her dad’s first name, Drew Hill.

Dana and her dad were incredibly close, she was daddy’s little girl from the minute she was born. He supported her career always telling her to pursue her dreams. He discouraged her from holding a job in high school saying, “You’ll have plenty of time to work when you get out of school. Enjoy yourself now.”

Dana’s mom was a different story. Independent and a bit kooky, Talia Taylor Hill kept their household...interesting. Life was never dull as Talia went through phase after phase, from hardcore working career mom to a free spirit artist spinning clay bowls and vases in the garage to a Mary Kay saleswoman hosting parties, dreaming of a pink Cadillac.

Dana remembered the day her mom quit her high-powered bank job to take up pottery full time. She rearranged her life and their house. Dana came home from school one afternoon to find her mom pushing furniture around the family room. “I’m correcting the house spiritually,” she told Dana as she moved a lamp across the room, using a book as a guide, “It’s feng shui.” Two months later the lamp was moved to become a spotlight for the latest eye shadow color palate. “A different kind of Zen,” her mom had said with a shrug of her shoulders, “Wanna be my test model?”

Dana’s dad took his wife’s eccentricity in stride...and with a not-so-occasional eye roll. It was her parent’s easy going nature that made it easy for Dana when she decided to pursue an unconventional career in radio. When she told them, their reaction was, “Go for it.” Their encouragement pushed her to chase her dream and make it come true.

Very few people knew Dana Hill. Her on air persona had taken on a life of its own. Dana herself answered first to Dana Drew. It was startling to hear Dana Hill, no one knew that name. It was not just the name that defined her, but her radio attitude as well. Even when she made friends, they all expected Dana Drew, funny and “on” all the time.

Sam, she thought, was different. He had just moved to South Florida and was at the post office to give a forwarding address. He’d been in town all of one day and hadn’t really listened much to the radio. He met Dana Hill and asked her out.

Dana was thrilled.

Sam was attractive, well built with dirty blonde hair and coffee brown eyes. He was a lawyer with a large firm who just transferred from New Jersey to the company’s main office in Fort Lauderdale. When Sam found out Dana’s profession he was intrigued, not star struck. Oh, sweet relief. Dana’s image was a tough rock ‘n roll chick. She flirted in her breaks and at appearances giving the impression that she was cool, laid back and very worldly.

The truth was quite different.

Growing up in a suburb of Orlando, Dana Hill was small town with big dreams.

It was the eighties and Dana embraced the decade with open arms: over aerosoled hair with bangs teased into the perfect poof, severe rouge and heavy blue eye shadow (Mary Kay, of course), giant shoulder pads to compliment every outfit and gummy bracelets. Lots of gummy bracelets.

She was a huge fan of the glam rockers whose hair was the envy of every girl. The male ones.

Bon Jovi. Bret Michaels. Sebastian Bach. Winger.

Their posters lined her walls. Super skinny guys sporting long flowing hair, tight animal print pants and thick eyeliner who named their bands Poison and Skid Row. It was like they thought toxins and tough neighborhoods would counteract their girlish good looks.

Dana dreamed of interviewing them one day, of being a part of that world. Every Sunday, she’d lay on the floor with her dual cassette boom box listening to Casey Kasem’s American Top Forty. When her favorite song came on she’d quickly hit play record. The beginning of every song got clipped, but she didn’t care. She’d compile all her favorites, play the tape back and talk up the song, making her own radio show. John Taylor and Simon Le Bon were frequent guests. She convinced her friends to portray them, accents and all.

Dana cultivated an alternate persona, someone cooler and hipper than she ever was. Someone who always had an ingenious line or a quick retort, the confident person she didn’t think