A Little Bit Like Home

When Lines Belong to Someone Else

AgriShop was a Saturday morning program that grew out of the daily syndicated AgriTalk broadcast. Both shows were originally hosted by Ken Root. AgriTalk tackled a wide range of agricultural issues during the week, while AgriShop was a buy-sell-trade call-in program. Folks could call in, visit briefly with Ken, and tell a little about what they had for sale—or what they were looking to buy.

The pace of AgriShop depended entirely on the phone lines. When callers were stacked up, the show moved quickly. When things slowed down, Ken had the freedom to visit a little longer, ask a few extra questions, and make the conversation feel like two people talking across a fence instead of over the airwaves.

Ken was an excellent host. He knew how to talk with people, asking the right questions and making callers feel comfortable in an intimidating medium.

One of his signature lines was a simple question he’d ask callers as they came on the air:

“Did you wake up grumpy this morning?”

You could tell immediately if the caller was a regular listener. The correct response was, “No, I let her sleep.” It always loosened things up on the air.

What many listeners never heard, though, was the person who truly made the program work—Jay Thouvenell. As producer and call screener, Jay gathered each caller’s information and quietly kept the show running smoothly.

As host, you were really just the face of the program. Everything you needed was on the monitor in front of you: the caller’s name, location, what they had to sell, and any notes Jay thought might help. You trusted that information completely. Jay could also talk to you through your headphones, letting you know how much time remained before a break. With a good producer, that internal clock runs even smoother.

At some point, I was given the opportunity to fill in for Ken.

The show was airing on about 15 stations across the Midwest. While many calls came in from our local station, KFEQ, there were listeners and callers from each affiliate. What made sense to one audience might not land the same way with another.

That morning, things were going well. The calls were steady, the conversations flowed, and I knew the questions to ask to help callers sell their items on the air.

About two-thirds of the way through the program, a caller from KFEQ came on the air. I glanced at the monitor, saw he had a tractor for sale, and opened the call.

“Bill from Missouri, listening on KFEQ radio. Good morning, Bill!”

But Bill didn’t jump into his sales pitch. Instead, he said, “I wake up listening to you every morning.”

That didn’t really apply to listeners on the other stations, so I did what seemed appropriate. I thanked him and told him I appreciated it.

Before I could move on, producer Jay’s voice came through my headphones.

“Ask him if he woke up grumpy this morning.”

I smiled. I knew the line and couldn’t resist. After all, I was filling in for Ken.

“Did you wake up grumpy this morning?” I asked.

There was a pause.

Then Bill said, “Oh, she passed away a few months ago.”

My heart sank.

Before I could apologize, he added, “She went on to a better place.”

At that point, saying “I’m sorry” wouldn’t work, because it could sound like I was sorry she’d gone to a better place. My brain was scrambling, the clock was ticking, and the show was very much still live.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

“Uh… what do you have to sell this morning?”

Through the glass into the producer’s studio, I could see Jay laughing.

I made it through a few more calls, finished the program, and took a deep breath. Almost immediately, the studio phone rang.

It was Ken Root.

All he said was, “See what happens when you steal someone else’s line?”

Over the years, Ken has reminded me of that moment more than once. And every time he does, I’m reminded of the lesson that came with it—not just about borrowing someone else’s line, but about knowing your role, respecting the craft, and keeping the focus where it belongs.

Tom Brand writes the weekly A Little Bit Like Home column, sharing stories of life, family, faith, and the occasional reminder that some lines are better left to their original owner. Find more at ALittleBitLikeHome.com.