“The Fine Print”, by M.H. Schrader

 

WELCOME TO THE AM WASTELAND

 

(Originally published September 3, 1997 in the Neighborhood Journal.  Posted February 22, 2003.)

 

 

       I finally bought another car to replace the one that was totaled a month or so ago.  It’s an older car, it runs good, and it has air conditioning.

 

       In fact, it is my father’s car.  Not literally my father’s car per se, because then he wouldn’t have one, but the exact make and model that at one time my father owned.

 

       Driving this car has been like deja vu.  You see, I learned to drive on a Caprice almost identical to the one I bought--same color vinyl interior, same cracking of the dashboard, same V8 workhorse engine.  The similarities do not end there--like my father’s car, it has the same "in the windshield antenna" type AM radio.  That’s right, AM--no FM.

 

       Unfortunately, AM radio has changed a lot since I first learned how to drive.  You see, back then, well, there used to be real radio stations on AM.  You know, ones that actually played contemporary music that young folks would want to listen to.  Of course, my Dad always preferred AM over FM because too many FM stations played that heathen rock music.  (Like the Steve Miller Band, for example.  You know, songs with lyrics like "House the people, living in the street, shoe the children, with no shoes on their feet.")

 

       It used to drive me nuts to go anywhere in my Dad’s car.  Here I was, 16 years old, and I had to listen to "easy music."  (He didn’t like to adjust the dial, and that was his favorite station.)  That probably explains why I never had too much luck picking up girls at the local McDonald’s where we used to go hang out.  "Hey, babe, you want to go for a ride and listen to some Lawrence Welk?" generally is not a very good pick up line for teenagers.

 

       The scary thing is that I now find myself listening to "easy music."  My gosh, I’m turning into my father!  Well, okay, maybe not quite yet.  After all, he listened to "easy music" by choice; I’m listening to it by default.  What is really scary is that the "easy music" station is about the best station of those in the vast wasteland known as AM radio.

 

       It’s a shame to see what AM radio has become.  When I bought my first car, it didn’t have FM.  But it didn’t need it.  There were still lots of good stations on AM.  Not anymore.  The choices are:  preachers, old country, talk, and "easy listening."

 

       Now I don’t have anything against religion, being a God-fearing Christian and all, but personally it is rather hard to think about loving my neighbor when the yahoo just cut me off on the freeway.  Most drivers are not filled with love, or even common courtesy for that matter, so it seems to me that the preachers’ messages must be garbled or something when received in a car, because obviously they are not getting through.  As for old country music, well there’s only so many times that I can here about how someone lost their job, their wife left them, or both, before depression sets in.  And depression, when mixed with the general anxiety that driving around the highways and byways of Arkansas causes, is not good for one’s personal well being.  Or others’, for that matter.  It’s just too volatile of a mixture.

 

       After listening to talk radio for hours upon hours upon hours, I just want to call in and tell them all to hush up for a while.  I was always told that I should keep my opinions to myself, and frankly I feel the same rule should apply to radio talk show hosts.  If I want someone’s opinion, I will ask for it, thank you very much.  I don’t think that it’s fair that I should have to listen to an opinion that I don’t really want to hear just because I have no choice because my car does not have an FM radio in it.  I have rights too, you know.

 

       Well, I guess I have the right to just turn the radio off altogether, which I have been doing a lot more of late.  Until I discovered the "easy listening" station.  After all, it is music.  Not sermons.  Not opinions that I don’t really care about of people that I really do not care to know.  Not poetic little ditties of how bad life is.  Just nice, easy music.

 

       Maybe Dad was onto something.

 

 

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