True Happiness: On the Radio

Driving this morning with the BBC on [they had an awesome report on the music in Hitchcock's Psycho], I smiled at the memories of radio stations I've known and loved.

77 WABC: Sis is seven years older than me, and we shared a room. So she was 16 to my 9, and she had her white radio with the butterfly stickers on every morning when she got dressed for high school. I used to sneak peeks at her in pantyhose--I didn't wear those yet, and they seemed so grown-up--as we listened to Harry Harrison and Cousin Brucie [pictured above]. In the summer, Dan Ingram was famous for "Roll your bod," said repeatedly, a reminder to roll over in the sun at the beach. So funny, even at the time. During this same morning music window, as Sis got dressed, she also sometimes communicated with Barbara K., who lived next-door to us and was the same age. Their bedroom windows were directly across from each other.

MOM'S EASY LISTENING: Down in the kitchen, as her little metal percolator spat and bubbled and she scrambled eggs in her bathrobe, my mother had another dial going. We listened to Doris Day singing "Que Sera, Sera," and other songs like "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head." Especially remember "Those Were the Days": Once upon a time there was a tavern... I won a contest when I sent in a song request and they sent me an album of best songs from the sixties. I was so excited. The collection included "Young Girl," and I played it over and over on the portable record player in my bedroom, sitting on the floor next to it, soaking it in and very seriously contemplating the words. You better run, girl, you're much too young, girl...." One of the best songs ever.

MYSTERY THEATER: When it was my Dad's turn to drive to evening Girl Scout events in the 1970s, he'd have the Mystery Theater on in our green Datsun. He'd jokingly shush Moey and me, so we could listen. It was fun.

ASBURY PARK STATION: I don't remember the callout letters, but I do remember the soothing voice of the DJ--a woman--keeping me company on Sunday nights when I was driving back to my apartment in Ocean Grove [right next-door to Asbury] after a weekend back home in Bergen County. As I drove the lonely, darkened Garden State Parkway by myself from exit 165 to exit 100B [about 1 1/4 hours], stopping only to throw quarters in the toll baskets, she spun tunes I liked. I think they were oldies.

WNEW: This is what was playing in H.'s tiny Park Slope studio apartment when we were dating. Happy music memories, and also warnings about traffic and bridge delays.

RADIO DISNEY: Fast-forward to motherhood, when you play kiddy stuff in the car. Figgy used to love that.

HOWARD STERN: I may or may not be married to a man who likes this radio show, and used to have Sirius in the car just so he could listen to it when driving alone. He did have the courtesy to switch back to my country music before parking the car. I will grudgingly admit that despite all of his grossness and sexism, Howard does have a gifted interview style. H. and I agree on that. He's smart, funny and quick on his feet--or his seat at the mic.

Now, it's NPR all the way, 93.9 FM for A Prairie Home Companion; Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me; Selected Shorts; Fresh Air with Terry Gross; Brian Lehrer; Leonard Lopate; and This American Life, and 90.7 FM out of Fordham University for the best music ever. It keeps me in touch with new artists and cool DJs. I love it.

I feel so connected. So in tune with my world. Now I better put my money where my mouth is and make a pledge to NPR. I keep meaning to.