Radio, Radio

I like radio. In fact, I like radio so much that I went to school to study radio. And you know what I did? I studied radio and it was glorious. I practiced being on the radio, learning how to run a radio station, editting material for the radio, and even producing a live show and conducting interviews. I was a radio junkie par excellence.

But, as the talmud often asks, "why radio?" This is a fair question, and, as with most such questions, it goes back to childhood trauma. Not so much trauma as craziness. Yeah, that's the word.

I went through all sorts of crazinesses as a youth, and one I remember, and I have no idea how or when it started, was a fear that I was the only one left alive and awake on the planet. Yes. That was a real fear of mine. I needed to be back home and in bed before my parents went to sleep. I was afraid that I was all alone. Really, that's what it boiled down to -- I hated being alone. So when I went down the block to a friend's house (yes, to play D+D...shhhhh) and my parents said that they were going to sleep early, I left while it was broad daylight and sprinted home so as to be there and safe. Crazy, I know.

Until one night, when I turned on the radio. It somehow reminded me that while I was lying there, all alone, there were other people alive and working. To know that I could turn on the radio and hear people who shared the night with me was to connect with reality and to be part of something. It restored a sense of well being. Maybe that seems grandiose but it actually was that life changing for me. So I really got into listening to the radio and I felt a kinship with it.

In college, I started out just being a guy. A guy who had some friends but hadn't found his calling. Then, sometime in my sophomore year, someone invited me to the radio station. And that was that. I again felt like I could connect with people -- other employees, radio devotees and other hangers on. People called in to tell me that they heard me; I was the voice in the night representing all that is still alive, their beacon. Even in the depths of 3:30 AM, I was alive and so were listeners. Some called in and that was always weird, but hey -- alive!

No, I am not invoking any Bon Jovi song. Radio didn't save my life. It just validated my neuroses so, yay radio!