Cape Fear
Part 2
by Dan Kennedy
Welcome to Cape Cod Hate Radio, brought to you courtesy of Ernest J. Boch, the
onetime poor boy who never went to college and who clawed his way to the top of
the car business by smashing windshields in TV commercials, dropping pumpkins
from helicopters, and battling law-enforcement agencies, state regulators, and
anyone else who got in his way -- even two of his sons, both of whom he once
demoted when their performance failed to live up to his high-profit credo.
In recent years, a new Ernie Boch has emerged. The nouveau riche bumpkin with
the garish mansion and an estimated $100 million in the bank. The extroverted
septuagenerian health nut who runs every day and stays away from alcohol,
tobacco, and red meat. The philanthropist who in 1994 gave $2.6 million to the
Cape Cod Center for the Performing Arts (now the Boch Center), and who last
year donated an underutilized AM station to Boston University's WBUR Radio,
allowing the public-broadcasting giant to extend its signal to Cape Cod and the
Islands.
The recurrent theme in Boch's weekend life on the Vineyard, though, is that of
the island-society wanna-be who's shunned by the upper crust. In a memorable
1993 article by the Boston Globe's late society columnist, John
Robinson, Vineyard doyenne Pat Sayre said of the Bochs: "They're not Vineyard
people. They don't fit in. They're a little scary. He's got a lot of money, and
he's an important person, and he seems like a very nice guy. But would you name
your boat `Come On Down'? There's that calling attention to himself that annoys
people."
But if Boch has been a victim of elitist snobbery, he's created plenty of his
own problems as well. No doubt it's part of his combative personality and his
need, seemingly programmed into his DNA, to make money, even though he's
already one of the wealthiest men in the state. That drive led him to launch a
years-long battle with Martha's Vineyard officials for the right to build a
harborside parking lot.
And it has led him to assemble a small but growing empire of Cape Cod radio
stations that, when they're not humiliating teenage mothers and trashing local
officials, are filling up the airwaves with cheap, nationally syndicated
talk-show hosts, ranging from right-wing homophobe G. Gordon Liddy, of
Watergate fame, to liberal weekend screamer Tom Leykis, of accused-wife-beater
fame. Today Boch owns four stations, giving him the largest group on the Cape.
Three, which he bought last year, are the sleepiest of operations: WCOD-FM, a
music-and-news station, and two music stations that are almost entirely
syndicated -- WJCO-FM, which plays big-band music, and WWKJ-FM, a classic-rock
station. The big gun in the Boch arsenal, then, is WXTK, which has been
bellowing at listeners since 1991.
There are those who think the point of Radio Free Ernie is to promote
its proprietor's ultraconservative ideology. Indeed, with the exception of
Leykis, who's only on during Sunday afternoons, the station's lineup is
unremittingly conservative: local morning hosts Lambert, who suspects Vincent
Foster was murdered, and Giles Threadgold, a Howie Carr sidekick; and then,
from 10 a.m. through 7 p.m., Liddy, Rush Limbaugh, and Carr himself, whose WRKO
show is simulcast.
"I think Ernie unabashedly wants the station to reflect Ernie," says
Republican political consultant Kevin Sowyrda, an occasional talk-radio host
who's done some work for WXTK. "Rush Limbaugh is the definite liberal on that
station."
Yet it would appear that Boch's true ideology is the bottom line. WXTK
generally places third in the Cape Cod ratings war. In an effort to boost
ratings, the station has dumped right-wing nut case Oliver North and local
conspiracy theorist Gino Montesi, a personal friend of Boch's. And though Boch
Broadcasting vice-president/ general manager Cary Pahigian says McKeag, a buddy
of Ted Kennedy's, left the morning show this summer on the best of terms
(McKeag declined to be interviewed), the new show, Lambert and Giles,
has aped national radio trends by toning down the politics and playing up the
humor -- or alleged humor, as anyone who suffered through a recent Threadgold
shtick about Bill Clinton's supposedly getting his ear pierced would attest.
In a telephone interview, Boch made it clear that to him, it's simply a matter
of numbers, no more, no less. "We try to listen to the customers as much as
possible and give them what they want," he says. "I think that's what our
programming formula should be."
No doubt Boch's attack-by-proxy on a low-income teenage mother was terrific
for ratings.
Dan Kennedy can be reached at dkennedy[a]phx.com.