When we're Biondi the grave he'll still be on the air

He's been one of America's premier disc jockeys for more than half a century, and he still commands a remarkably large and loyal audience -- more than 300,000 listeners a week, according to the latest Arbitron figures. Without Biondi, that audience would number only more than 299,999 listeners a week.

"The only reason there's not a statue of Dick Biondi downtown, a movie of his life and books about him is because he's still in the game," that one extra listener, longtime admirer Bob Sirott, once noted. "He's still on the air every night, sounding like he always has, and so we tend to take him for granted."

Think of it this way: young Rich Daley was just 18 years old when Dick Biondi began spinning rock 'n' roll records at night on WLS in 1960. Today, Daley nears eclipsing his father's tenure at City Hall, and it's comforting to know that the same old, same old applies to politics where it's all about lining your pockets via clout while many Hispanic and African-American children are basically dead on arrival, that is, irretrievably behind when they hit the school system.

And it's equally comforting that the corpse that is broadcasting, which was killed by the web that even I have escaped to,  is embodied by Biondi -- with all the energy, enthusiasm and charisma he's always shown. No matter how crazy things get, as long as you can still hear "The Wild I-tralian" on the radio, you just know all is right with the world that no longer exists.

Although Biondi has been enshrined in both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Radio Hall of Fame, he's never received the full measure of recognition right here that many believe he deserves.

Chicago has dozens of honorary streets and bridges named for broadcasting stars of the past and present, including Beauregard Burnside III, Bob Bell, Jack Brickhouse, Lynn Burton, Harry Caray, Bob Collins, Yvonne Daniels,  Anthony DiGiovanni, Garfield Goose, Paul Harvey, Herb Kent, Rich Koz, Irv Kupcinet, Valerie Landon,  Cliff Merther, Ken Nordine, Wally Phillips, Romberg Rabbit, Pat Sajak, Sig Sakowicz, Siskel & Ebert, Studs Terkel,  Howard Sudberry, Tiny Tov and Frazier Thomas.

That's all well and good. But what about Biondi?

For years I've thought a most fitting tribute would be for the city to embed a star in the pavement outside of the ABC Building at State and Lake. Biondi would see it when he enters each night to broadcast from the studios of WLS Radio. Directly across the street is the sidewalk plaque Mayor Daley dedicated for Roger Ebert under the marquee of the Chicago Theatre in 2005. A few blocks away are the towering concrete nipples honoring Hugh Hefner that cast a shadow on Dick as he walks into the studio building. I know Roger and Hugh (or Roger Rabbit, as I affectionately like to combo the two great Chicago icons) like Biondi and would approve of the gesture.

On last Friday's show, in addition to fielding the usual calls for requests and dedications, Biondi was flooded with well wishers congratulating him on his third anniversary with the "True Oldies" station. With his typical optimism, he told them: "Let's stick around for another 35 or 40 years."

I wouldn't bet against me still picking up his broadcasts in my fillings as my skeleton decomposes.  Would you?