E-Mail This Article to a Friend Satellite of love, continued

But even if every Sirius subscriber listens to him, 3.3 million is a lot less than the 18 million Stern has been accustomed to throughout his career. And for a man who sees a therapist four times a week and has spent his life working through an obsessive-compulsive disorder that has crept into his mania about ratings, the 15-million dip in listenership could start to eat away at him — no matter how many summer-camp-counselor-lesbian stories he can now share on the air. (Not to mention the fact that Sirius is not even the biggest satellite-radio provider — XM radio, which offers Major League Baseball, Opie and Anthony, and Snoop Dog, has six million subscribers.)

But Stern is confident that this is just the beginning — he repeatedly equates paying for radio with paying for cable television and bottled water. And his romper room is now a whole lot larger.

He’s in charge of two 24-hour stations that will be chock-full of Stern-flavored news and shows (the $500 million price tag is reportedly earmarked for salaries and for marketing). The Stern favorite It’s Just Wrong (a game show in which family members undress each other) is back. Lesbian Dating Game is back. And then there are the new ideas. The ideas he wouldn’t have dared air on regular radio — like Tissue Time with Heidi, a phone-sex show to help men go to sleep, which he sampled during Monday’s debut (and which stopped Ed Bradley in his tracks during last month’s 60 Minutes interview with Stern). And though it hasn’t been publicized, once he has enough material in the bank, Stern will give himself Fridays off, which will help with the burnout factor.

Fielding questions about Sirius, his non-marriage, and his daughter performing nude in an off-Broadway play, Stern seemed relaxed and genuinely happy before the press. He talked about why he wears a condom (germs, added girth, endurance). He boasted of his nine-person news team (featuring New York news veterans like former managing editor of WABC Eyewitness News Liz Aiello, George Flowers, and Ralph Howard), which is saddled with one mission: to cover all things Stern. Beside him was his entire cast and support system, which give the show its dysfunctional-family-sitcom vibe, the real reason most listeners tune in each day. And Stern’s biggest advocate throughout his career, Mel Karmazin, came out of retirement to be Sirius’s CEO and has his back.

At one point, Stern scoffed at people wishing him luck in his "new venture."

"I’ve been doing this for 25 fuckin’ — friggin’ — years," he replied, catching himself after dropping an f-bomb.

A NEW AUTHORITY

Wait, did Stern just censor himself?

Yes. Stern doesn’t want any of his guys to curse unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Last week, during a studio test that was aired on Sirius, Stern got to taste the freedom of his new address for the first time — and anyone who happened to be listening got a taste of where Stern draws the line. As the staff worked out the new studio’s bugs, friends of the show called in, including Dan the Farter, a long-time guest with the Stern-coveted talent of being able to fart on command. On terrestrial radio, if his farts were "too wet," they were censored. That was the actual law laid down by the powers that were. Now they will be to Stern’s juicy liking. Stern also played some old — and for once, uncensored — bits. In one, staffer Benjy Bronk engaged in role-play phone sex with a 66-year-old woman. He played the role of the horse: "Can you feel my hoofs on your back?"

The bit played out and the cast cackled at each mention of the term "horse cock." Stern was in his element.

But then writer Sal the Stockbroker delivered some new bits. Bits that seemed to fulfill the mainstream media’s prophecy that the show will simply devolve into a carnival of "shits" and "fucks." So during the test Stern quickly implemented a kangaroo-court system — each time a cast member drops the f-bomb, they will get tea-bagged by show writer Richard Christy. Obviously a joke, but you could tell Stern was not going to let his staff run roughshod over the freedom he worked so hard to obtain. "When I curse, it’s the right amount of cursing at the right time," he chastised members of his staff toward the end of the test run. Then he played bumpers for his show’s new call-in number: 1-888-9-ASSHOLE.

Bill Jensen can be reached at bjensen[a]phx.com.