My least favorite radio network.
’Cause without that space, they’ve simply misspelled “clove.”
I stopped listening to radio in the early ’00s, ’cause I got an MP3 player. It wasn’t the iPod I wanted (I finally got one of those in ’04): It was a pocket computer, a Windows PocketPC, which among other things included a mobile Windows Media Player. I also discovered podcasts around that time, and even though I still had dial-up internet at home, I set up the computer to download a bunch of shows overnight, and I started ripping every CD I owned into my good ol’ Gateway. Loaded up the SD card and never looked back.
The pocket computer still works, by the way. I like to use my technology till it completely dies. Phooey on planned obsolescence: I wanna squeeze a decade out of it, at the least. It’s why I still use my clamshell iBook. Sometimes I gotta plug it into my Android tablet to make it work… but I digress.
The last radio stations I regularly listened to was a “nineties and now” station at home, and a Christian pop station at work. ’Cause I was teaching at a Christian school, and some of the bluenoses frowned on the secular stuff. I could only get away with jazz, ’cause they had no clue Louis Armstrong was sky-high on “gage,” as he called it, when he sang; or that Miles Davis was half out of his mind on heroin. For that matter, we have no idea how many tabs of Vicodin our favorite Christian artists might’ve been prescribed when they recorded… but again, I digress. Point is, don’t judge.
On my way to work, if I ran out of podcasts, I’d sometimes tune in preacher radio. And get annoyed when the station was full of cessationists, all of whom preached the impotent gospel of “Christianity isn’t what we do; it’s what we believe. So get your theology straight.” ’Cause when Jesus separates the sheep from the goats,
Christian pop stations were annoying too. All happy, peppy, but not-at-all-challenging music. Plus that particular station kept promoting itself with the slogan, “Safe for the whole family.” I grew up on Narnia books, so my attitude about Christ is more like that of the Beavers on Aslan in the first one: “Safe? Who said anything about safe? ’Course he’s not safe. But he’s good.”
No, the station wasn’t K-L
The more MP3s I accumulated, the more my interest in broadcast radio shrunk to nothing. By 2006 I didn’t even have a radio. Mom had my boombox—still does, and is welcome to it—and maybe there’s an old FM radio or two in a bin in the garage somewhere. The rare times I bother with radio, it’s an internet station. That’s it. If someone needs to broadcast something over the Emergency Alert System, I’m not gonna hear it. Oh well, so much for the tornado warnings.
But sometimes radio is inflicted upon me. Not just in stores which pipe it over the public address. Way too many of my fellow Christians are listening to K-L