Okay, maybe it has ended. Frankly, I've lost track.
War, post-war, reconstruction....it doesn't matter what you call it. As long as the media is obsessed with Iraq - infrastructure, relief efforts, sanitation - I'm still considering it wartime. I don't care if the oil's flowing again. All I know is that Dr. Laura hasn't been on the radio since way back in March.
I won't say that I live for Dr. Laura, but, well....okay. I live for Dr. Laura.
But not just Dr. Laura.
I live for talk radio. AM talk radio. You know, the very loud world of Rush Limbaugh and Paul Harvey - you know, those guys who g-r-a-t-e on your nerves?
But it's not just AM talk radio I listen to. I also surf between local NPR stations...trying to find the coolest interviews. Not just the usual stock of on-the-scene liberals visiting third world countries to combat AIDS and female genital mutilation, but serious discussions with David Byrne and Kevin Spacey on important topics like the widening wage gap between corporate executives and workers.
But lately I can't listen to my regularly scheduled gabfests. Lately, since about the beginning of March, war rules the "hot air" waves.
At first the radio schedule was interrupted for "Special Reports" about whether or not we were going to war. Then it was "Special Reports" concerning our conquests. Now, everything's a special report.
As I'm writing this, I'm missing a special report:
"Starbucks Provides Scone Relief - Day Old Bakery Items Dropped Over Qatar." Apparently, the day old stuff doesn't break so easily when you drop it from the helicopter.
So I've been tuning in to FM radio a bit.
It's been fun. And annoying.
I've heard lots of Bee Gees. I forgot how good the songs from Saturday Night Fever were. Now I can remember those songs every couple of minutes or so if I hop the pop stations efficiently.
I've also heard all of Madonna's old stuff. The stuff she did before she was the Queen of Redefinition, or the Queen of London for that matter. For the record, "Borderline" gets much more airplay than any of the "Likes..." (Like a Virgin, Like a Prayer, etc.).
I've even gotten over my hatred of Celine Dion. If I can just forget about her and her daddy - I mean, manager - doing the nasty when she was a teenager, I can actually enjoy her songs.
Every once in a while I'll hear a song from back when I got my driver's license. Back then I just drove around as an activity. I'd think of places to go. I'd go, get there, and leave. Just to drive.
Always and Forever's a good one. Or Hold the Line by Toto. Remember Toto? They were pretty hot. Very Members Only. But maybe I'm confused. Maybe it wasn't until '82 with Rosanna that they started with that whole pushed-up-sleeves-of-cheap-jackets look. That song was about Rosanna Arquette, you know. A little Toto trivia.
Anyway, I could have held out a little bit longer not listening to talkaholic radio. I could have. Had it not been for the honking and ringing.
Usually I don't notice radio commercials. They're kind of like television commercials to me. They just don't register.
But lately, I'll be driving along and suddenly I'll hear honking. I'll tap my brakes and look around to see who's upset. See who needs to get by. See if an ambulance is behind me.
Invariably, it turns out to be a stupid commercial on the radio. Apparently, they think imitating the honking of car horns is effective advertising.
Well, it's really effective if the goal is to make me crash.
I was kind of getting used to the honking. Then the phone started ringing.
Again, radio commercials.
Again, highly disruptive to safe and effective driving.
I hear the phone ringing, I come out of my driving stupor, I try to watch the road while looking for my phone.
Does the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration know about these commercials? If they don't, I'm calling Dateline NBC. I'm sure thousands of accidents have resulted from these negligent ads.
So, I guess it's back to Books on Tape. Even though I miss a critical part of the narrative everytime I have to make a turn or change lanes. I'm still not sure exactly what transpired on that damn bridge in Madison County. Damn that lane merge.
My only real concern is that something important will happen in the world while I'm not tuned in to the radio.
Maybe, if something happens, one of my readers (or is that my one reader) could do me a favor and call me. My cell phone is always on.
And, if it rings, I'll try to remember that it's my phone and not the radio.