by Pa Rock
Radio Head
I just caught a portion of a radio interview yesterday morning in which a fellow was speaking of the educational impact of the news. He was quoting research that said in the lead-up to the war in Iraq, people who relied on Fox News for their information were the least informed.
Color me surprised!
He went on to say that listeners to National Public Radio (NPR) were among the very best informed. And while I strongly suspect that to be a true statement, the interview was taking place on NPR.
I have two radios in my home, and one in the car. All routinely are tuned to NPR, and I sort of schedule my life around their programming.
Yesterday I changed that up a bit.
I was having a particularly stressful day. I had two cysts removed from the shoulder blade the previous Friday, and I was not able to remove the nasty dressing (because it was on a part of my body that is impossible to reach) - thus bloody sheets - thus laundry every morning. Also that particular morning, as I was planning a rush trip to the doctor to get his assistant to change the dressing, I got in my car, way before daylight, only to discover that it wouldn't start.
There is one place to go for car repairs on base. It is three blocks from my house, and they will not come to you - you must take the car to them. My regular mechanic is just off base and has no wrecker service. To get a wrecker onto base, you must meet it at a particular gate and ride onto base with the vehicle. That gate is over two miles from my house.
It was going to be a helluva day!
I walked to work - about five blocks, called my insurance company to arrange for a wrecker, and had a friend drive me to the entry gate where I stood outside and waiting for over an hour. When the fellow finally showed, he was in a pickup! (My insurance company had decided to run a battery check first and save a few dollars.) Fortunately, they guessed right - my money was on an alternator replacement. But, if they had been wrong, I would have had to stand outside for another hour while a wrecker found it's way to the base.
USAA, you suck.
But back to the radio story.
After the nice fellow in the pickup truck got my car started, I drove off-base to my mechanic's shop, and he checked everything out immediately and put in a new battery. While I was in his shop, on Monday the 25th of November, three full days before Thanksgiving, I was entertained with wonderful holiday music coming off of his radio. I asked about the station, and as I drove off - to the doctor's office - I deserted Diane Rehm and began playing the wall-to-wall holiday tunes on my car radio.
And my attitude magically lightened. The stress began to evaporate, the angry edge disappeared. I could literally feel my troubles lifting and floating off to Oz.
My mood was so good that it didn't even bother me when the receptionist at the doctor's office told me, after an unnecessary 45-minute wait, that the doctor was out and that the only available medical assistant didn't know how to change a dressing. That was a lie, of course, but I didn't even care. I drove back to work whistling to Frosty the Snowman and Little Drummer Boy and not giving a damn about greedy doctors who can't work five days a week and trained medical assistants who lack the skills to change a bandage.
This morning I went back to the medical center and the doctor himself changed the dressing (without any political tirades), and by the time I got back to my office I was happily whistling John Lennon's So This is Christmas!
Music truly does have the power to sooth the savage beast!
Radio Head
I just caught a portion of a radio interview yesterday morning in which a fellow was speaking of the educational impact of the news. He was quoting research that said in the lead-up to the war in Iraq, people who relied on Fox News for their information were the least informed.
Color me surprised!
He went on to say that listeners to National Public Radio (NPR) were among the very best informed. And while I strongly suspect that to be a true statement, the interview was taking place on NPR.
I have two radios in my home, and one in the car. All routinely are tuned to NPR, and I sort of schedule my life around their programming.
Yesterday I changed that up a bit.
I was having a particularly stressful day. I had two cysts removed from the shoulder blade the previous Friday, and I was not able to remove the nasty dressing (because it was on a part of my body that is impossible to reach) - thus bloody sheets - thus laundry every morning. Also that particular morning, as I was planning a rush trip to the doctor to get his assistant to change the dressing, I got in my car, way before daylight, only to discover that it wouldn't start.
There is one place to go for car repairs on base. It is three blocks from my house, and they will not come to you - you must take the car to them. My regular mechanic is just off base and has no wrecker service. To get a wrecker onto base, you must meet it at a particular gate and ride onto base with the vehicle. That gate is over two miles from my house.
It was going to be a helluva day!
I walked to work - about five blocks, called my insurance company to arrange for a wrecker, and had a friend drive me to the entry gate where I stood outside and waiting for over an hour. When the fellow finally showed, he was in a pickup! (My insurance company had decided to run a battery check first and save a few dollars.) Fortunately, they guessed right - my money was on an alternator replacement. But, if they had been wrong, I would have had to stand outside for another hour while a wrecker found it's way to the base.
USAA, you suck.
But back to the radio story.
After the nice fellow in the pickup truck got my car started, I drove off-base to my mechanic's shop, and he checked everything out immediately and put in a new battery. While I was in his shop, on Monday the 25th of November, three full days before Thanksgiving, I was entertained with wonderful holiday music coming off of his radio. I asked about the station, and as I drove off - to the doctor's office - I deserted Diane Rehm and began playing the wall-to-wall holiday tunes on my car radio.
And my attitude magically lightened. The stress began to evaporate, the angry edge disappeared. I could literally feel my troubles lifting and floating off to Oz.
My mood was so good that it didn't even bother me when the receptionist at the doctor's office told me, after an unnecessary 45-minute wait, that the doctor was out and that the only available medical assistant didn't know how to change a dressing. That was a lie, of course, but I didn't even care. I drove back to work whistling to Frosty the Snowman and Little Drummer Boy and not giving a damn about greedy doctors who can't work five days a week and trained medical assistants who lack the skills to change a bandage.
This morning I went back to the medical center and the doctor himself changed the dressing (without any political tirades), and by the time I got back to my office I was happily whistling John Lennon's So This is Christmas!
Music truly does have the power to sooth the savage beast!
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