Each morning I get in my car and begin my trek to the office. And while it's only a 25 mile trip, I know I'll spend the next hour staring at a sea of brake lights and cursing those invisible forces that somehow cause five lanes of interstate traffic to stop moving.
Now, sitting in traffic is bad enough. But having to listen to rush hour radio DJs while you do it ranks right up there with getting a root canal on your birthday. Words cannot describe drive-time DJs. Oh wait, yes they can. Obnoxious; irritating; maddening; so annoying that you want to pry the knobs from the dial and jam them into your ears.
Is it really fair of me to lump all radio DJs into one gigantic category of ear pollution? You betcha; I've given them all a fair chance. And in return, I've heard countless hours of prank phone calls, boring interviews with B-rate celebrities, lame jokes, song parodies, and plenty of farting and burping sound effects (well okay, those are pretty funny).
C'mon, where's the originality? The “Howard Stern schtick” is sooo last millenium. The “He said/She said” angle's been beaten to death. The goofy guys on the Oldies station are trying too hard and the ultra cool hosts who introduce Alternative music aren't trying hard enough. And then there's the “morning zoo.” (Da da dummmm!)
You know what I'm talking about. The hyper zookeepers sound like they've digested about six pounds of coffee beans, washed down with half a dozen giant Pixie Sticks. They talk really fast with A LOT of energy and use words like “wacky”, “nutty” and “extreme” as often as possible. There's lots of horns, whistles, bells, buzzers and alarms, all of which are irritatingly loud, but not nearly as loud or irritating as the hosts themselves. Just listening to these guys has been found to induce nausea in even the most tolerant of listeners. In fact, I am one of millions of Americans who suffer from Zoo Intolerance.
On the other side of the dial are the hosts on public radio who seem to be permanently comatosed. The city's engulfed in flames, a giant gorilla has been named CEO of Microsoft and the President of the United States is joining a traveling theater troupe's production of Hair. Good thing the producers keep the host nice and calm.
“You're showing way too much emotion, Phil, it's just a little nuclear war. Remember: slow, monotone, flatline. Think Gore.”
AM radio offers little relief, unless of course, you enjoy listening to staticky baseball broadcasts (“And schschschzzz is up to bat. There's the pitch, the swing and he grgschschzzz…”) or constant rotations of “Guantanamera.”
I vaguely remember a time when sitting in traffic was somewhat bearable, or at the very least, didn't make you want to pull your bottom lip over your head and swallow. Our saving grace was the radio. So at what point did drive-time radio go all lame on us? Researchers at the Center for Radio And Programming are divided on that answer. While some claim that it was, in fact, video that killed the radio star, others just blame the French.
But it doesn't really matter who's guilty. What's more important is that we do something to stop our ears from bleeding on the upholstery. So other than going to Costco and buying a tub of cotton balls, what can be done?
I've found that talking to myself is a nice alternative to listening to the radio. Unfortunately, those conversations usually lead to disagreements and name calling. There's always books on tape. The problem there is that I'll zone out and suddenly realize I've been reading the same sentence for 15 minutes.
So radio it is. I guess Ben Franklin was right, after all. Some things in life are certain. Death, taxes. And fart machines.
© 2005 robbloom.com.
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