💣 But The Phones Blow Up When We Do That… 💣
Why It Matters:Â because doing same old, same old and allowing the phone lines or social media reaction to guide your content strategy are coin flips.
The week of November 3, 2025 was a particularly tough one at the intergalactic headquarters of The Reynolds Group and for your old pal Steve Reynolds aka the Top Ten Talent Coach®.
I spot checked two different shows that week and something so horrific happened on both that it took multiple therapy sessions and some gummies to deal with. Only now can I talk about it.
I tuned in and both shows had on psychics. Cue the thunderclap.
Hype and hyperbole aside, I did bristle at the content choice and imagined what both would say when I asked why. As a former morning guy, I tend to know the excuses before I hear them. I was well-versed in using all of them to justify a content choice that was both bad and non-strategic.
Here’s what they’d say: “but the phones blow up every time we do that.” As if the phones were an affirmation of a smart decision. They might be right. But they could also be wrong.
I wanna make two points:
- It scares me to make content decisions based on direct feedback from what you get on the phones, when listeners talk with you, or what you see on social media. Not that those people are wrong for themselves, but it’s dangerous to extrapolate what a few people say and believe it’s correct for all. Four blinking phone lines means that those four people are reacting to what you’re doing. Without research, there’s no idea what everyone else thinks (test recall and perceptions and you’ll know much more than what blinking phone lines or social media likes/posts say). If listeners tell you how wonderful you are, that’s their truth. But remember, no listener will ever reach out to say the opposite. It’s easy to be romanced into thinking that that’s how everyone feels. But, emotions (good or bad) are never a smart way to decide about content for your show. Tens of thousands are listening at any given moment. That five said something is noise in the grand scheme of things. The question I’d ask both shows above is this: how did having on a psychic fit our content strategy? If that can be answered satisfactorily, then let’s do it. If it can’t, then we shouldn’t.
- The specific issue I have with psychics is that it isn’t a modern content choice. It’s quite old school and might say to the audience – we do this because we’ve done this and that should be good enough for you.
One show I work with decided to pull the old standard War of the Roses last year. It got us our best streaming downloads and tune ins, but the show lost favor with it and, in a reassessment of our content strategy, we believed it no longer fit where the listeners are in life. In a world with lots of arguing and deception, they and the show’s hosts hearing about cheating couples no longer was right.
That’s not to say drama doesn’t work. We just had to update doing dramatic things, but no longer through this feature. I’m not advocating taking this feature off if you do it, just sharing the conversation I had with this show about its fans.
We pulled the feature (everything went online and on demand for those who like it) and came up with new (modern) ideas to get stuff like that on the air.
Some talent reading this will wanna defend psychics. I’ll make it easy. Email me here to make your case and let’s have that spirited conversation. But we need to be more strategic and inventive to get to our win, given the vast number of choices listeners have for content and connection.
Let me leave you with this great quote from Harry Styles on Howard Stern on the best advice he ever got in his career (clip here). Harry said:
“I think one of my favorite things a friend once told me is remember that everything that people say about you isn’t true.  Whether they say that you are horrific, it’s not true. And if they tell you that you’re the best thing ever, it’s not true.”
Certainly, accept those comments. That’s the truth of the person sharing it. But…your plot and content strategy beat all of that. Can you honestly and dispassionately connect the dots between whatever you decide to do on your show and that?
In a world with lots of noise all around us all the time, choose well and smart. And ignore the feedback you get from those blinking lights and social media posts. It’s always dangerous to decide only from those.

Here are twelve ways a tenured show can slowly get itself into trouble. This won’t happen overnight. A dramatic ratings collapse won’t happen. But inch-by-inch violate enough of these, and you’ll be coasting. Because smart competitors love strategic confusion, you’ll also be quietly building a launchpad for one of them to steal your audience.
However, a disconnect emerged. While Whoopi had a storied career, including her acclaimed role in The Color Purple, much of the radio audience expected to wake up with the comedian they loved in Sister Act. Her vision for the show was more aligned with what she does today on The View. Sitting in the studio most mornings, I saw firsthand the audience wasn’t expecting that direction. Despite the great interviews and funny moments, the show struggled. We learned that in a nine-minute listening occasion, you must be true to your brand. The constant listener calls referencing Sister Act were a reminder that while Whoopi was incredibly talented, that alone wasn’t enough to deliver the expected ratings success.
I have worked with many shows where the personalities are unsure of their roles or their on-air relationships. In successful long-running television shows, the audience knows exactly how each character will react. From I Love Lucy to Seinfeld to Everybody Loves Raymond, character friction drives the content.
Last week, I was sent to the grocery store. My partner is the cook in our relationship, and he directed me to get peeled tomatoes for a recipe. I dutifully drove to the Harris Teeter and found them in aisle five. Ah, success! But then dread and dark clouds hovered over. Did he want the tomatoes with basil? The ones with oregano and garlic? Plain? The ones already chopped or whole? Did he want the Hunts or Contadina brand, or could I buy the less expensive Harris Teeter brand, which was on sale?
I have a disease called Permanent Content Brain. The phrase was coined by podcaster Pablo Torre who admits, as do I, that everything I see I wonder how it can be content on a show. I am reminded of talent who go about their lives and never see the power of this kinda stuff to help them be relatable or use it to create fun stories the audience identifies with. So many say “nothing happened to me yesterday” yet when I dig deep and get inquisitive, so much content appears. They didn’t see it because they weren’t paying attention.
Heated Rivalry does the one thing at its core every show must do to shift people from being listeners to becoming fans: they make us care about the characters. Think of any show or movie that moved you – that connected with you that you still rave about – and note that the screenwriter and story made you care about the people in it. Think of who you hang with in your personal life; those you know and those you care about. You must do the same with your show to create that loyalty with listeners.
Years ago, when my father came to terms that his eldest son would never play sports, he suggested that I officiate my uncle’s team’s basketball scrimmages. That was appealing to an insecure 15-year old because I was told I’d have a whistle and the other kids had to listen to me. I caught the referee bug so, for the last three decades, I’ve officiated high school basketball as a side hustle.
These are the people who will tell you: “That works… but it could work better.” “You’re leaning on the same moves again.” “You’re good—but you’re capable of more.”
Some nights while eating dinner, I have no appetite on TV for the political shout-fests or sports round table know-it-alls. So, I keep clicking until I hit gold: a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond. A show that hasn’t been on the air in 20 years but always delivers the laughs.
Who are the characters on your show? They must, must, must be grounded in the truth. The difference between your characters and those on Everybody Loves Raymond is that yours are real (the TV characters are assigned to great comedic actors). You cannot give a persona to someone on your show – they’ll be inauthentic and the audience will sense it. Apply this exercise above to your cast then ask where the tension is and how they are different.
But not my Carrot Weather. It has attitude and edge, and it almost always makes me laugh because it’s topical. And it curses at me. Where I’m blah on all the above, this app entertains me while I’m getting the weather information. As a result, I don’t shrug my shoulders at Carrot. Even its name is different from all the above. What do carrots have to do with the weather? Nothing! I’m loyal to it because of these differences, and gladly pay their $30 yearly fee because I (we?) need more laughter in our lives.

I get bored in Umstead Park, right by my house. I leash up Willow Two Toys® and Sam the World’s Neediest Dog® and we go for a walk. No phone, no music, no headphones, no disruptions. I turn the “gotta figure this out” dial down to zero. Only nature and my wandering mind. And what enters my brain when I invite in some boredom are solutions to challenges, ideas, and ways to innovate I didn’t have when I was filling that boredom with an endless search for something to solve it.
I don’t profess to have any super creative abilities. But I have found, when I create that brain space by walking through the park, things magically happen. I don’t know why and can’t predict when, but it happens. We don’t do enough of that. As an example from last week, we have a holiday concert at one station and the morning show has 100 tickets to give out. Instead of doing pairs of tickets so lots of listeners win, or the dreaded Family Four Pack (someone kill this, please), the walk through the park brought me the idea to give all 100 tickets to one listener. The morning show promotion Deck Your Doors was born in the park because of the boredom. The talent and brand manager loved it and now we have something that’ll make our show stand out.
So, I’m here to say go be bored. Find a park, let your feet touch grass figuratively, leave the phone behind, and let your mind wander. If you’re one of my on-air talent, try this weekly and watch what happens to your creativity.
I recently decided to add to the boredom menu. I bought a bike. While my friends all have bets on when I’ll end up in the emergency room, I’m betting that the boredom of the rides, with no phones or distractions, will unlock more of my curiosity. A few days ago, the boredom of a ride brought me the idea for this blog.
Human beings gravitate to routine and structure. The Bert Show on Q100 in Atlanta has been a part of that for decades. And poof, one day soon, it will go away. What will happen to his massive, loyal following in Atlanta and across his network of stations? However the station handles this moment could determine its success for many years.