A Little Late to Jump on the Wagon

Oh, that wagon is so far down the road, I can't even see it.

Finally, I found NPR on my car radio. This seems ridiculous, as I've known of the station for years and years. Heck, I even pondered a job search there back in my "I'm gonna be a journalist!" days.

But I never could find the darn station on my local FM radio.

WG listens to it regularly and shares his finds with me, but when I ask him for the station numbers, he, mysteriously, could rarely tell them to me. Or if he did, and I tried the station in my neighborhood, all I got was static.

I tried a number of times. I'd go to the NPR website and track down local stations numbers. I would dilligently write down the numbers and promptly lose them by the time I got to the car.

This time, though, I finally did it! I got in the car, plugged the numbers into my pre-programmed stations, and I'm good to go. For the past two days, I've been devouring the newscasts. I've learned about a state bill that will bring more money to public transit. I have gotten caught up on the economic crisis in Argentina. I've listened to an interview with a young pop singer trying to get in touch with her Ukranian roots. Last night, I drove home to the blissfully calm sounds of a pianist doing her best to showcase her art.

So, on the off-chance that you're even later to the wagon than me, give NPR a chance! Go, run, find your local station, write it down, and for heavens' sake, don't lose it!