morning radio

My fancy new radio. And yes, those are Scrabble pajamas. What of it? 

I struggle with routines. I worry that I will get too set in my almost-fifty years old ways. Then I worry that I don't have enough structure in my life. Clearly, I worry about worrying.

I have the structure of work and deadlines and putting gas in the car and paying bills and putting trash on the curb on the right day. But that's about it. Once I hit the door of my house there is not much I have to do. I can let the laundry pile up, have an empty refrigerator, let the water glasses collect next to my bed and watch episodes of Californication until 1:00 am.

Conversely, I can put my nose to the grindstone and write for hours or get involved in a book or binge clean and not worry about feeding anyone but the cat.

I do have a bit of a morning routine, besides brushing my teeth and taking my vitamins.

I listen to the radio.

As I putter around the house and get ready I carry it with me from shower to kitchen to getting dressed. I have two dear friends who are part of this morning show -- one as on-air talent and the other is the producer. Another friend books the guests and keeps the machine going. I love listening to the show, I feel like I'm getting to spend time with Kristi - and will occasionally talk back to the radio. Yes, I know she can't hear me.

The show is full of innuendo and sophomoric jokes and skits that make you groan or laugh so loud that you snort and scare the cat. I love every second of it. Sometimes I'll shoot Kristi a quick e-mail about something they are discussing. And sometimes she'll quote me on air, "my friend says blah blah," and I'll get so excited that I don't care that they guys invariably make fun of me.

Listening to the radio in the morning also reminds me of mornings at Grandma Leona's house. The radio was always on in the farm kitchen. The local station would report the weather, commodity prices and obituaries. I hung on every word, even though I was young and none of the information pertained to me. I just thought it was the coolest thing ever.

I didn't have a portable radio, well, ever, now that I think back. I missed the whole Walkman phase and never had a transistor radio.

When I really became friends with Kristi I bought a plastic shower radio. It had a giant plastic hook and I would carry around  as I got ready, exchanging it for my keys as I walked out the door. Monday, as I was juggling bags of Tater Tots and coats to take to the farm I dropped it. And it flew into several non-duct tape-able pieces.

I can't believe how much I missed it Tuesday morning.

Do you know how hard it is to find a radio that is just a radio? It took me four stores to find one - I think I scared the kid behind the counter at Walgreens by my giggling at the cheapo radio. Now I have two things with an antenna, the radio and my television. It's like 1964 at my house.

All was right in my world this morning. I had another radio.