I can’t tell you how many times people have said, “Why don’t you share some stories of your early, wacky days as a teenage disc jockey? I can’t tell you, because that hasn’t happened. But if it had, I’d start with this one.

At the age of 20, I was doing the afternoon top-40 show on WFLI in Chattanooga. I had been a weekend DJ during my teen years and had perfected the art of doing the FCC-required hourly “transmitter meter readings” far in advance. Since the scary old FCC inspector had not yet paid me a visit, I didn’t worry about it. I would take a quick glance at the meters early in my four-hour shift and log all the numbers in advance so I wouldn’t be bothered with it again. I could then get back to the serious business of playing K.C. and the Sunshine Band songs, and talking to girls on the phone.

I didn’t know what those numbers meant anyway. Back then, a radio announcer could pursue either of two FCC radio licenses. A first-class license was for smart people. Many of them had to take special courses to pass the test. The lesser third-class license merely required memorization of facts and figures that were easily learned and quickly forgotten. That’s how kids like me who had never changed a light bulb were allowed to operate a 50,000 watt radio station. Just call me Mr. Third-Class.

I didn’t like to be near the transmitter. It was a monstrous, scary contraption with ominous red buttons, giant electrical switches, and “Caution!” signs everywhere. Each day I had to increase the power from 1,000 watts to 50,000 watts. I had no qualifications or interest for this task. I followed the step-by-step directions, hoping for the best. I knew I had raised the power correctly when the folks who lived the near the radio station would call to complain that they were hearing us on their toaster, their bed springs, their telephones and their tooth fillings.

One fine afternoon, I started my shift at 2:00, took the 10-second stroll over to the read the 5 meters, and wrote the numbers down for 3:00, 4:00, 5:00 and 6:00. As usual, I varied the numbers a bit, so that it looked like the 4:00 readings were slightly different from the 3:00 readings, and so on. That way, if anyone ever really looked at those numbers a day or two later, they would think I did my job in a competent manner.

At about 2:45 p.m., the station owner, Billy Benns paid a rare visit to the control room, accompanied by his companion, a large German Shepherd named King. It was a Friday, and Mr. Benns, who was known to be somewhat cranky, was especially irritated on Fridays when he had to sign the paychecks. Mr. Benns was an engineering genius. Among the young deejays, Mr. Benns was respected and feared. Mostly feared.

He put on his glasses, grabbed the clipboard and looked at the transmitter log, studying it intensely. I tried to stay calm, tapping my feet and swaying to the beat of “Rock the Boat.” But I knew I was busted. He put down the clipboard and said, “Uh…Mr. Carroll.” (He addressed all of us kid deejays formally, which I found very flattering.) “Do you have a crystal ball? Can you predict the future?”

Using my ad-libbing skills, I mumbled, “Uh, sir, well I uh, you know, it’s funny you should ask…” Before I could continue sputtering, he asked, “How do you know what the meters will read at 4:00 today? And at 5:00? That’s several hours from now, Mr. Carroll.” I’m sure I had a really clever comeback ready to go, but he continued.

“You know the FCC could shut us down for this, right Mr. Carroll? And you, sir, would be out of a job. Don’t let this happen again.” I was about to pledge my newly found devotion to hourly meter readings when he opened the door, took his dog and said, “And play more Elvis songs! Let’s go, King.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Benns.” He walked out, and I started playing “Burning Love.”

I said, “Oh believe me, I need so much more. Let’s start with affordable health care.” He just stared at me. I should buy him a MAD magazine.

David Carroll is a Chattanooga news anchor, and his new book “I Won’t Be Your Escape Goat” is available on his website, ChattanoogaRadioTV.com. You may contact him at 900 Whitehall Road, Chattanooga, TN 37405, or at RadioTV2020@yahoo.com.