We have a clock radio in the bedroom.
And lousy radio reception.
With the last radio, we could get the Milwaukee station I always used to listen to. Top 40, or Top 20, with morning chat clearly geared to Moms getting kids ready for school.
I will admit, it was sometimes irritating to come face to face with my demographic, first thing in the morning. But I liked it. It was comfortable.
We switched radios about the same time that a Madison station with a similar frequency began boosting it’s signal. It doesn’t come in well, but it comes in very insistently over the top of my old station, crackling static and blaring headbanging metal.
This has been going on for a year or so. I have grown used to it. It puts me in a mood to start my day. A crappy, surly mood. Any warm feelings I might have if they play “Crazy Train” or Rob Zombie, are wiped away as soon as the DJs speak. They are crude. They are sexist. They are ignorant party boys. I want to get out of bed. I want to get out of the room and far far away from the radio.
For an alarm clock? Mission accomplished.
But today, my husband tried to switch to this new station he’s found and is listening to in his car. It’s not like I wasn’t prepared. I borrowed the Toyota to go into town the other day, and instead of Rage Against the Machine, I got the Bay City Rollers.
This morning, I woke up to Frankie Valley singing “Grease.” It was all down hill from there. And the DJs were daring each other to say the word B I T C H. They decided against it, as too vulgar.
My old DJs wouldn’t say bitch, either. They’d find something worse.
I lasted three songs before I begged him to change it back.
It’s not that I object to Frankie, or mind clean living. In theory.
Just not first thing in the morning. I hate morning. I can’t imagine why people would not swear, faced with the prospect of getting out of a nice warm bed and going to work. They are obviously not headed in the same direction as me.
And the songs you hear at that hour tend to stick. And I had to live all day with
I THINK I LOVE YOU, SO WHAT AM I SO AFRAID OF…
blaring in the back of my mind.
My husband is a cruel, cruel man.