Take a number and stand in line.
And stand in line.
Maybe a friend will bring you lunch.
So stand in line.
Maybe a friend will bring you dinner.
Still stand in line.
Forget that bit about taking a number.
Just stand in line.

The Federal Communications Commission will be in San Antonio on Wednesday to hold the second of six community hearings on localism in the media. If you want to speak, be prepared to stand in line.

Hannah Susseman, a community media activist with the Prometheus Radio Project in Philadelphia, spent a few days here prepping people to testify before the FCC.

She warned that at the first hearing in Charlotte, N.C., in October, corporations paid people to line up early. As the hour of the hearing approached, men in suits replaced the stand-ins. Our two minutes at the mike — especially the first hour or so — were dominated by ringers.

In Charlotte, this didn't seem to exclude anyone. Only about 200 people showed up, and everyone got to testify.

San Antonio might be different. We're the home of Clear Channel Communications, the largest operator of radio stations in the nation. Its 1,200 stations reach 110 million people a week.

We live in the belly of the beast. There's a lot at stake.

On Wednesday, I'll be hanging out at City Council chambers, the site of the hearing, noting who's standing in line at noon and who's at the head of the queue at 5:30 p.m. when the hearing starts. Wouldn't it be ironic if local people got shut out of the localism hearings?

FCC Chairman Michael Powell inaugurated the localism task force in August, two months after his commission approved new rules that loosened the cap on media ownership.

Now, a corporation can license a greater share of the public airwaves. Laxer rules also are in effect for cross-ownership: The same company can run a couple of television stations and the daily newspaper, for example.

The FCC received more than 2 million letters protesting this media consolidation.

Those concerned about fair public discourse wrote that consolidated ownership will homogenize opinion and make it harder for alternative views to be heard.

Musicians and fans complained that standardized playlists shut out local musicians and bands not on the Top 40.

Clear Channel is at the heart of the controversy. It pioneered the use of "cyberjocks," disc jockeys who operate out of a central location and prerecord shows that are digitally altered to sound local, but aren't. A similar system is used for news broadcasting.

Just a year ago, a train containing toxins derailed in Minot, N.D. The city tried to get local radio stations to warn citizens about the poisonous cloud descending on them, but no one answered the phones. Clear Channel had just bought six of the Minot stations, and they were operating on autopilot, broadcasting remotely produced shows. Three hundred people were hospitalized.

Clear Channel also has been criticized for killing community partnerships. In Louisville, Ky., WHAS had paid the community for 20 years for broadcast rights to a balloon festival during Derby week. When Clear Channel bought the station, according to Salon magazine, it demanded that the community pay the corporation instead.

Powell denies a link between consolidated ownership and localism. The two issues are inseparable.

Truly local radio and television would do more than raise money for a few select charities and announce traffic jams. They would be speaking in our voice, nuestra voz. They would be telling our stories and singing our songs. We're getting served vanilla when what we want is dulce de leche.

So go ahead and stand in line. Let your voice be heard. If the line's too long or the seats are full, attend the local media rally on the steps of City Hall.

The airwaves belong to the people. That's the law. Let's keep it that way.

Susan Ives can be reached at suives@texas.net.