A little bit of everything, as long as it’s spicy. Ronnie Littlejohn

JAZZFM.91 program host, Ronnie Littlejohn, has been a radio guy since forever. Really. Music/communication/connection - it started early and continues to this day. His program, Gumbo Kitchen, is all things New Orleans jazz. The perfect recipe for musical delight. Just don’t add tomatoes…

Who are you?

My name is Ronnie Littlejohn. I’m the host of the Gumbo Kitchen on Jazz.FM91. I’m also a father, husband and a singer. I haven’t been a singer for nearly two years so it’ll be interesting to see whether I still have that muscle.

Let’s stick with radio host, father and husband for now. I do a bit of singing round the house, with my out of tune piano at home sometimes, but can I do a three hour show? That’s the question, when that day comes, if that day ever comes again. 

How did you get here? Why do you do what you do?

I’ve had a romance with radio ever since I was ten years old. I’m sure every radio host will tell you this. I don’t think I’m unique in saying that I had my own little radio station in my bedroom when I was a kid. It was called ROCK101FM. It was FM radio and I even had a little host name for myself, which I will not divulge(!). I did it in my bedroom and did my top 30 countdowns. I did my top seven singles of the day.

It got to a point where I had a little microphone hanging from closest on a coat hanger. I emptied my closet, shoved a desk in with my record player – a full on radio show. When I had friends come over (keep in mind I was ten years old), they would sit around the room and we’d be talking. Then, at some point, I’d tell them all to be quiet because we were going to air in thirty seconds. I swear they looked at me as though I’d lost my mind! 

I did some college radio but I got to JAZZ.FM three years ago in January. I got on board when it was a bit of a political hot potato. It was half the radio station that it is now. It was going through some awkward transitions. A lot of the hosts had left the station. I hadn’t listened to the radio for quite a while.

I pitched this radio show, Gumbo Kitchen, ten years ago and nothing happened. When the transition was going on, they contacted me and asked if I still wanted to do that Gumbo Kitchen idea. I’d forgotten about it. They gave it a shot, gave it one episode and one turned into three years. I love it, more than anything. 

That’s the history, starting in that bedroom, with nobody listening except for me. Here I am, at fifty years old and the love is there, the magic. I remember the first time I heard the radio, somebody handed me a little Walkman thing, with these incredible headphones. I turned on FM radio and it was so clear. I could hear the radio announcer. He had the little cards in his hands and I could hear those. It was a whole new world inside this electric box and I wanted to be part of it.

That’s a wonderful amount of dedication.  What got you there as a child?

My love of music. There was always music around my house. I was raised by my mother. She always had one of those record players that you’d put 45’s and pile them up and decide what twelve songs you want to hear. They would drop one after the other. That’s something my mother and I would do when she was making dinner. We’d dance and listen to music. 

I remember one day, I went to the Canadian National Exhibition and there was a radio station (CFTR) and DJ there. His name was Mike Cooper and he was doing a remote broadcast. I suppose it looked like an RV but it had the glass and the call letters. My friends were saying we should go on the rollercoaster or the haunted house but all I wanted to do was watch the DJ.I watched this radio host do his thing, blasting the music and he was watching me through the glass, making faces because I guess at the time I was a cute kid. 

I was mesmerized by this guy. ROCK101 probably started a week after that but that’s the earliest that I can remember. Radio was always on in my house, and I remember listening to Blue Jay games on the radio, one of my favorite sounds on the radio. There’s a mystique to it, that I can’t explain but I always wanted to be part of it. Thank you Mike Cooper. 

What is that magic about radio, for you?

Before the pandemic, I’d get a lot of emails but during the pandemic, my emails have skyrocketed. People thanking me. That’s what’s been happening in my show, to every host at the station. People are thanking us for what we do.

People feel connected, that’s obvious. They could go onto Spotify or any streaming station and listen to anything they want, or they can stream a radio station. I will listen to a streaming thing for maybe five minutes and I’ll eventually put on the radio instead because there’s that connection with someone. 

People say ‘thank you for keeping me sane’. There were months and months where getting up to do the radio show kept me going. It got me out of bed. There’s the magic, right there. I don’t think you get that from TV. It’s been here forever, through depressions and wars, way before I was born. That’s what people turn to. You see old photos of groups of families, sitting around the radio, just listening. It’s still here.

You have the radio – music and communication.  What has happened with the singing?

I’ve been singing since I was six. I played in a band called Planet Earth for about fifteen years. We made four or five CD’s - great band, soul/funk band. I was fortunate enough to play with some of the best musicians in the Canadian music industry. We made some albums, did a lot of shows but I always had a safety plan.  I worked in a hospital for ten years, I worked at the Coroner’s office in Toronto. I always had a job that I knew would feed the family.

It was a great group of guys but, like anything, it just drifted apart. I’m still singing. I haven’t done it in two years but it’s a great seven piece project showcasing the music of Van Morrison called CARAVAN. We’ve sold out every show. I really miss that. 

What was it like not to perform during this time?

I’ve asked myself why I don’t miss it more. I should be going crazy and yet I’m not. I love it so much. I’ll see musicians on social media losing their minds about not performing. My thought is that when it happens, it happens.

I also think it’s because I have the outlet of the radio show.  Maybe that’s why I put so much extra into the show. It’s not just me sitting around playing Fats Domino records. It’s me taking the listener from A to Z, from Louis Armstrong to Buckwheat Zydeco without them noticing the twists and turns, without it being abrasive. I’ve made that my creative outlet. I miss singing on stage but I know it’ll be back. 

To be fair, though, music has never been my bread and butter. If music were putting bread on my table, I’m sure my anxiety levels would be through the roof. I know so many musicians who have quit music and gone back to school, and good for them but people I never would have expected.Once again, radio kind of saved me, in a way.

There was a guy who sent me an email, he was in Japan and he was on a cruise ship. He was on the first cruise ship that got Covid-19, that was docked in Japan. His wife got it but he had to stay on the ship. He sent me an email and said that he was trapped on the boat and his wife was in hospital but he listened to the show. He requested some traditional jazz for himself. I emailed him back and said of course. We stayed in touch. Back to the magic. He reached out to the radio station, to me, with him going nuts in a small room across the world.

Do you feel a sense of responsibility?

I do, but without making myself sound more important than I really am. There is some responsibility. I’ll give you an example. When folks were rioting in the States, over the George Floyd situation, I knew I had to acknowledge it on my show. And I did. I played some Sam Cooke and Timmy Thomas - all important music. People were emailing me saying that that was the most powerful show that they had heard in a long time. I, myself, said nothing, the music said everything.  

Do I feel a sense of responsibility? I absolutely do. One hundred percent. But at the same time, to some I’m just a guy in the background when they are driving down the highway, but I also get emails every week from listeners counting down the minutes till the show starts.  Somewhere in there, lies my responsibility, somewhere between background noise and someone who’s waited all week. 

The other thing is that my show is about escaping, it’s about getting away for four hours. I make an extra point to keep it fun and light and not take it too seriously. It’s Friday night, the show’s called the Gumbo Kitchen, I mean how serious can we get? 

Nothing to do with the price of fish, but do you do recipes?

One guy sent in an email and it was his recipe for gumbo. I said it on the radio and in his gumbo, he had tomatoes. He started getting all these emails saying you don’t put tomatoes in a gumbo!! I thought ok maybe I should maybe stay away from the recipes!!

In the show, it is like gumbo, there’s a little bit of everything. That's why I intentionally called the show the Gumbo Kitchen. It gives me a lot of space to throw in a lot of different things – as long as it’s spicy. You you can put anything into gumbo. EXCEPT tomatoes. 

What has the magic of the pandemic brought to you?

I’m closer to my wife and daughter. I don’t just mean physically as we’re locked in the house all the time! I think in five or ten years, when someone says ‘remember the pandemic?’, there'll be something in me that will say that those were the best two years of my life. I know that sounds… I hope that doesn’t sound insensitive.

I know people who have gone through hell, I know people who have lost people. I’ve been fortunate so far, knock on wood. If I were to be honest, the closeness that I have shared with my family has been invaluable and irreplaceable. I’ll be saying that there was something magical in those two years. 

We went on more walks. I have a backyard and a bonfire. Sometimes I’ll be texting friends and say, “Call me. Pick up the phone because I’m tired of texting, my thumbs are killing me!” They phone and then at the end of the conversion, they will say thank you for getting me to pick up the phone. Although we’re further apart, in some ways we are closer together. I know it sounds like a terrible cliché. The listeners have kept me sane as well.

Who are you?

Oh boy!  Wasn’t that the first question? I’m still Ronnie Littlejohn. I’m about thirty minutes older but after this conversation, I do realize how blessed and fortunate I am. I’m a guy who’s a little more aware than he was thirty minutes ago! Sometimes you don’t realize it until you speak to someone. I’m a very blessed and lucky and blessed individual. Talking to you shone a bit of light on that so, thank you.