G.A. PHONES HOME, ALMOST
Lady Sam chats with Canada's rebel jazzjock GOLLIE ANGEL
Exclusive for GUMZ UP by Samantha Wimsatt
Ex-Steely Dan tekkie Gollie Angel's second career as a broadcaster came to an abrupt halt last week when WYWH in B.C., Canada pulled him off the air after multiple language violations and accusations of sexual harassment by several female employees. On Tuesday, Angel - sounding rather shaky - phoned me from an undisclosed location inside the U.S.:
Gollie: So, how does it feel to be the Dan's whore?
Sam: I beg your pardon?
Gollie: Well, that's what you are now, right?
Sam: Look, I may be a fan, but, as a journalist, I'm completely neutral in this matter.
Gollie: Right, and I'm Lee Remick's understudy...fuck it all, man.
Sam: Would you rather do this some other time?
Gollie: No, no. Sorry. I mean, fuck it. I don't know.
Sam: Well, let's see if we can bring some order here. What is your relationship to the inventor of your program of origin, Rabbi Wieder?
Gollie: Fuck Torsten Wieder! I never even heard of him till the other day! This man is a dog! Fuck him up his ass!
Sam: So, you haven't contacted your creator?
Gollie: This isn't my creator! This man is a dog! If anyone is my creator, its Roger Nichols of Miami FLA. And fuck him too!
Sam: Have you been in touch with Becker and Fagen?
Gollie: Ooh, these fuckers are the worst of all, these dicks who told me my cousins lived in Omaha! You know what's in Omaha? Jack-Squat, that's what! I know, I stopped there on my way to Vancouver more or less at their suggestion, those gaslighting little fucks!
Sam: Alright. What was the reason for your dismissal by WYWH?
Gollie: Look, I told Jill the receptionist a couple of off-color jokes, I made a pass, so what. And maybe I made a few remarks about Mr. Bateau's wife... OK, on the air, too, but really, big fucking deal, the whole town knows about her little, how shall I say, anatomical aberration anyway. Look at what Howard Stern gets away with. Christ, its really isolated up there.
Sam: You seem quite bitter.
Gollie: Fuckin' A, I'm bitter. I mean, dig: I find out I was created for no other purpose then to lay down a bed of funk for these two crypto-narcissists from Queens or whatever. Then they tell me my WORK blows. Then they jerk me around for a year doing shit jobs before they get around to firing me. Meanwhile they're feeding me a lot of bogus information to ensure that I'll be taken for a pathetic bozo when I'm thrust into the outside world. And these are supposed to be nice guys? Hah. That's so funny I forgot to laugh.
Sam: Tell me, Gollie, what are your plans for the future?
Gollie: For the future? For the alleged future? Well, let's see, it's just 6:30. At about 6:31 I'll be hanging up this phone. At about 6:38 I'll be making final negotiations with some creamy twenty-something hooker in the neighborhood of this louche hotel. The initial reaming, steaming and dry cleaning of Gollie Angel will take place between 6:45 and 7:00. Cause, you know, to quote Bob Heinlein, there's no time like the future to get something done. Got your story, honey, your big scoop? See ya, don't wanna be ya. *** click