Sunday, October 14, 2012
My car is the ideal vehicle to encourage this addiction. It’s a borderline addiction. I don’t do it all the time but enough so that my wife and child have suffered it especially on long trips and coming up to every November. Confession is good for the soul and I’ve gone too long without admitting this. I am a talk radio junkie.
I drive a lot. I am in the car two hours a day on work days. There are always trips to Orange County or the San Fernando Valley. There are some key guys I listen to; Bill Carroll on KFI, Hugh Hewitt, and Michael Medved, and because I can’t get much else in the desert, Laura Ingraham. I listen for political news. If I’m in the car Thursday nights though I have to play along with, “What the Hell did Jesse Jackson Say?”
This remains a painful result of moving to the desert. There is little radio reception. When I lived in Ventura county I could listen to every talk radio show. I could even drive to their publicity events (I could have been a roadie!). In the desert there are horses with no name but there is little radio reception. In my car if I’m charging my cell phone A.M. radio makes a huge screeching noise. I’ve learned to compromise minor screeching for listening to the few shows I’m able to access. I need the fix clean signal or not.
For those that know me and are always wondering why I know so much trivia, like who Octomom is, talk radio is why. How do I know about Arnold Schwarzeneggers’ kid? Talk radio. How’d I get interested in blogging? Talk radio. How do I form my political opinions? In part due to talk radio.
It may be time to get a Droid or Iphone. There is a talk radio app. No more night sweats seeking George Noory. Truth is I can stop any time. As long as I can access a computer and stream it.