The Radio Is On

Did you catch this week’s episode of This American Life?

What?

This American Life. The weekly radio show on NPR. National Public Radio?

I really wish you wouldn’t talk like that.

Like what?

Like the biggest geek in the world.

Public radio is good stuff. This American Life is great!

More like This American Dork.

(Laughs.) Man that makes no sense.

Yeah it does. You’re a dork.

Because I listen to This American Life?

Because you come and ask me all (in a snooty voice with his nose up in the air) “I say, did you catch such and such episode of This American Life on the wireless, by Jove?”

I did not!

You did, too!

Whatever. I did not.

What’s wrong? Afraid of facing the truth that you’re a dork?

A lot of people listen to public radio.

A lot of people are dorks.

NPR is great and This American Life along with This I Believe and A Prairie Home Companion are some of the greatest programs in the history of American media.

It’s so boring!

You just have to give it a try. Don’t you get tired of all the crap on the rest of radio?

I don’t listen to the radio, man. Who listens to the radio anymore? Besides maybe my grandparents who sit in their Lay-Z-Boys in their living room and listen to big band music on the radio until 10 o’clock every night, wishing they could hop in their giant, black 1935 Buick and drive down to the local YMCA and do the Charleston on the basketball court dressed in their suit and dress and hats and patent leather shoes.

(Laughs.) You're in luck: they're making it into a television series on Showtime. You don't have to listen to it; you can watch it.

Yeah. Boring radio made into boring tv. Too bad I don't get Showtime.

Yes, too bad.

Chick and Sol Stop By Buck's Office At His Request

Hey guys. Thanks for stopping by.

No problem.

What’s up?

I came back from lunch today and I found this note on my desk:

"206

My day has come and it’s shining."

Man, that's weird. What the does it mean?

I don’t know.

Is 206 your office number?

No. We're on the fifth floor.

Oh, right.

Phone extension?

No. We all have five digit extensions.

Maybe it’s an area code.

I thought of that and looked it up. Area code 206 is in Seattle.

Wow. How far from Seattle are we?

Fourteen hundred sixty-six miles.

Do you recognize the handwriting?

Nope.

Well, maybe that’s just it.

What?

Maybe it’s just some kind of supernatural memo letting you know your day has come.

Really?

And it’s shining.

(Re-reads the note.) Wouldn’t it be someone informing me their day has come? I mean, it’s not “your” day has come it’s “my” day.

Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I guess your day hasn’t come. Has your day been shiny at all?

No.

Mmm. Oh for two.

Did anyone else in your office get a mysterious message?

Not a one.

Hmm.

Maybe you have a secret admirer. And they are telling you that you made their day shiny.

Maybe.

I had a secret admirer in seventh grade. Her name was Bianca.

Wow. She sounds exotic.

She…uh…well...she played on the j.v. football team.

Oh.

She wrote really nice notes to me, though. She’d leave them in my locker between classes. They were very pleasant and she had delightful handwriting.

Did it look anything like the handwriting on the note Buck got? Maybe she tracked Buck down all these years later.

Maybe. Bianca? Are you here? Bianca?