Monday, January 07, 2013
Yanked From My Kitchen
Oh for goodness' sake.
Remember (how could you forget?) that amazing retro radio station I discovered one year ago? The one I always switch on the second I step into my kitchen? The one I mention here, like, every five posts?
The station I waited 40 long years for?
It's gone. Went away. A result of non-local, out-of-touch-with-real-people Corporate deciding to ruin everything and instead, add another call-in sports station. Gah! As if we needed more sports stations around to talk about how pathetic the Buffalo Bills are.
Each day I thanked God for this dream-come-true radio station. Each day.
Oh! I will miss Harv and his corny jokes. And the old-fashioned commercials and of course, the music. Andy Williams, Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Doris Day, Johnny Mathis. How will I stir soup or fry tater tots without you dear people? Oh, the ache of silence.
I can tune to a retro online station up here upstairs, but music for my kitchen! Oh, that's where I must find something special to replace Swing 1270, a station to waft through my 1930's replica radio which I love dearly.
Once we listened to a similar local station while waiting an eternity to have our taxes done for free (but which didn't get done at all), yet it was too Happy-Days-snappy-jukebox-like, caused my head to pound and made me want to slap somebody.
Hmm. There's that lovely French music station from Toronto which enchanted me out at the farm--but I can barely pick it up downstairs. I'll try again, though. Perhaps the signal became stronger this past year. Hmm. (Oh, I'm so tempted to insert something doubtfully sarcastic here, but I'll refrain, the power of life and death being in the tongue, and all...)
Disappointment. It's all so, well, disappointing. But hey, it's times like these when God watches us closely, to see if we act like red-faced crybabies or people He's spent decades maturing (often the hard way). I must watch what I say and keep believing that He has something even better ahead.
But oh man. Swing 1270 felt like perfection.