Off the air, on the record: Larry Ulibarri
Berlin Sylvestre is Out Front's Editor.
There’s perhaps no better way to start your traffic-laden, pothole-dodging day than busting a gut to Larry Ulibarri’s silliness on KS107.5’s The Morning Show. For the many thousands of us who laugh in spite of ourselves at his “so-bad-they’re-good” Kim Kardashian impressions, it’s basically like we’ve got a lovable and ridiculous buddy riding shotgun for our entertainment. He’s consistent with the comedy and gives us just the right amount of insight into his life so that it’s almost like we know him.
And so I feel like a bit like a stalker as approach his house, like I already know a good deal about this guy in spite of the fact that we’ve never exchanged a word. I take a deep breath outside his door and ring the bell. Someone says something I can’t quite make out, then a smiling face appears. His expression is warm, inviting; his body language suggests he’s affable and when I accept the invitation to come inside, he takes an instant fancy to my legs — as in, he won’t stop licking them.
“Yoshi, stop,” Larry urges his elderly pooch as I step fully into his spotless Stapleton home. He’s all apologies with his handshake, but I don’t mind Yoshi in the slightest — pets are the best way to give nervous hands something to do in a stranger’s home. We stand for a bit in his kitchen (the tile-work is “to die”) and the nerves melt in welcome chatter before we head downstairs into his home studio.
And then suddenly, I’m seated at a table in front of an expensive-looking DJ mic across from Larry and his trusty sidekick, Producer Wig’nz. There’s a vaporizer on the table and “Wig” extends a palm that says, “Knock yourself out.” Larry’s eyes are practically slits and the room’s soft lighting and gentle acoustics certainly make the offer inviting.
What adds to Larry’s charm is that he knows how to bring you quickly into his inner circle, and speak to you as an old friend might. The moment I sit, I realize I must be arriving at a time when he’s freshly irked by a boss he really doesn’t like.
“This is the most I’ve ever had to fight [at work],” he vents, speaking of a coworker who’s turning out to be something of a micromanager. “He’s forced the team to become a weird support group for one another.” When his original boss at KS107.5 left for a Clear Channel gig in San Francisco, Larry and his team — that’s Kendall B, Kathie J, and Producer Wig’nz — approved a new guy to help manage the show.
“But then he started trying to make massive changes,” Larry says. “When you get ego involved, they want to fix things that aren’t broken.” He says the passive aggressive texts and duplicitous attitude got so bad that the team started shopping around and exploring offers from other radio stations. “The people at Alice [105.9] really wanted to hire us for their morning show, but we were too expensive.”
Though Larry says the disliked character he calls “Pig Vomit” has poked and prodded for a change in the way the team conducts The Morning Show with requests that they be more like the tamer, more vanilla radio hosts in other parts of the nation, the team won’t be swayed. Numbers, like hips, don’t lie. “The only thing that keeps bad management at bay are our ratings,” he says.
He swats at the air and apologizes for venting. In truth, it’s ok: It’s rather nice to see that someone with a dream job and a loyal following has to put up with the dreaded “horrible boss” that the rest of us do at times. The conversation is steered toward family, and he tightens a bit.
“I was raised in a super-religious, Jehovah’s Witness household,” he says. “It’s not a religion; it’s a lifestyle, and it’s just as much a cult as Scientology is.” His face is becoming flush. “These are people who tell you you’re a bad person if you leave, and say that family is supposed to turn their backs on you for it.” He wipes something imaginary on the tabletop over and over. “Being gay and raised in that religion is hard. And they sold me on it; I believed everything was true.”
He leans forward and cradles his head in his hands before wiping at sudden, angry tears. “I knew that because I was gay, when Armageddon comes, I wouldn’t qualify.” He apologizes between sharp breaths and gathers himself, looking equal parts embarrassed and surprised at himself. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. Deep breath.
“Mom took me to a session with a therapist who was also a Jehovah’s Witness. He asked me, ‘Are you [gay]?’ and part of me wanted to lie and part of me was like f*ck it.” Tears return. “She was still in that cult and she was trying to use religion to say, ‘We’ll fix it, it’s ok.’”
I want to hug him so bad, but he’s already recovering. “She’s not in that cult anymore,” he says after straightening his back a bit and regathering. “And she loves my husband.”
Larry says she stayed for another eight years. When his father died, she thought that Armageddon would soon follow — at least, the church had convinced her of that, urging her to stay strong and in the faith so she could reunite with him in a global paradise. “My mom really thought it was around the corner and she was gonna see my dad soon.” Years went by and paradise didn’t unfold. When the church looked disapprovingly on a relationship she started with a new man, coupled with the reminder that she was supposed to have turned her back on her own son by this point, she broke away. His sister soon followed suit.
“My mom is amazing now,” he says. He talks about seeing Celine with her in Vegas and says something about the show stuck with him. Not only was Celine giving love to her band, she was showing lots of love to the audience.
“She said, ‘If you didn’t come here, we couldn’t do this,’” he recalls. “That’s what I think of my listeners, and that’s why I protect our show with everything with I’ve got. It means a lot; it’s more than a fun job. We put people in a good mood for the rest of their day. I’ve had someone say, ‘I had to get up every morning for chemo and you guys made it bearable.’ Even when it’s not as dramatic, like someone dealing with a d*ck boss, it put what we do into perspective.”
He turns to the boyishly handsome Wig, who is tangoing with a mouse in a video-editing software. Outside of The Morning Show, Larry and Wig run Uli Productions, a one-stop-shop for businesses looking for high-quality videos and radio spots to promote their products. Wig assembles video, music, and animation for the commercials while Larry employs his talent as a writer and voiceover artist — they’re ad men, plus. (Just don’t call them partners, as that gives off the wrong impression, according to Wig.)
“We put in a ton of hours and our spouses get mad,” Larry admits. They’re especially proud of their partnership with Denver-based YOLO Rum. Larry brandishes a bottle. “It’s the Patron of rums,” he says of the dark, Panamanian spirit. The conversation meanders and shifts to him coming out.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he says. “I feel like I was the last guy to come out. I always say I was in the closet, but it was glass. I was open, but not official. Once I came out, I realized it was important. It made a difference. I think the most impact is in the fact that people who didn’t know a gay guy actually knew one now. People consider us friends, part of their routine, so now they had a gay friend. I remember the Facebook post where I said it; I got thousands of likes and comments. I was expecting hate … the eventual ‘F*ck you, fagg*t, you disgust me.’ I was blown away, in tears. One that said, ‘I’m gonna pray for you’ was the most negative. Then people started attacking her, but I made them stop. I said, ‘She’s thinking she’s doing something nice for me, it’s cool.’ If that’s how bad it gets …”
He lands on another subject he adores: his husband, Chris. He pulls out his phone and shows me a pic of a striking figure with bright blue eyes, full lips, and beautiful bone structure. “I love his teeth,” Larry says, swiping toward a pic displaying Chris’ pearly whites. The couple married last year at Disney. “We’re both Disney heads,” he confesses. “Those were my gay showtunes — I totally believe in The Little Mermaid.” Larry scrolls through more pictures, smiling to himself. “We were each other’s first real boyfriend.”
Fun fact: Kathie J and Chris were highschool sweethearts.
“When they went to college, Chris came to terms with liking guys, and Kathie came to terms with liking black guys,” he says. Chris and Kathie were talking on speakerphone one day and Larry told her she had a great laugh. When she responded, “Oh, thanks. Get me a job in radio,” well … you know the rest.
As we say our goodbyes, Larry brings it in for a huge hug and leaves me with a bottle of YOLO. The guy really is just as funny and down to chill as he is on radio. And it ought to come as no surprise to readers — the big kid and hometown hero is probably riding shotgun with many of you tomorrow morning. UliUncensored.com
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Berlin Sylvestre is Out Front's Editor.

