Private Lives 105.9 FM – WCKG Chicago
reviewed October 2003

Yet more pure horseshit from the abyss of inbred Chicago radio, "Private Lives" is another sex-and-relationships show, this time aimed squarely at the suburban whitey demographic that is the WCKG listenership.

The fumbling and bumbling chemistry between the two hosts – Dr. Kelly Johnson and Karen Hand – doesn't attract in the car-crash kind of way that many of CKG's other shows do, but rather repels in a "These two people really shouldn't be on the radio together" kind of way. Their voices reek of desperation, and the endless stream of overly-slick WCKG promos thrown in in every 18 seconds only provides more ammo for you to vow to never listen to commercial radio again.

Johnson's professional advice isn't bad per se – it's solid enough that I wouldn't be opposed to seeing him for personal counseling – the problem is that most of the calls they get are utterly pointless and extremely dull. Hand's roles on the show as "common sense gal" and "crazy female sidekick" add up to little but making mountains out of molehills, bantering on and on about how perfect the Doctor's marriage is, and frequently suggesting that the cure to any bad relationship is a blow job, or "a little oral," as the FCC apparently prefers it said.

In fact, almost everything on this show makes mountains out of molehills, or at best, just polishes turds. Doesn't help that the hosts seem to think that everything they say is much more edgy than it actually is. One way to make the show more tolerable while listening is to picture Hand giving Johnson a three-hour "hand"-job under the console. Hand, Johnson. Ha, ha.

Easily the best part of the show is spotting the fake calls, which there are more of than the hosts are aware.

Listening to even just a smidgen of a show like Lovelines – aired on rival station Q101 – will cleanse the palette of the bad taste left by this stinker. Sure, that show's demographic is younger and hipper and sexier, and yes, it's slick radio too, but it's at least eminentely listenable. The hosts are smooth, and it has a flow.

Private Lives has anything but. Listening is akin to teetotaling at the start of an insufferably long party where you don't know anyone and don't care to, either. If this show is still on the air in six months, I'll be flabbergasted.

Review by Kevin Thermometer