It’s official, people. I have gotten old.
Yes, I know all you 40- and 50-somethings are giggling behind your hands at me. A girl who’s not even 30 cannot possibly be old. Sometimes I swear I am an older person caught in a young person’s body that looks even younger than my chronological age. It’s as though my brain is at least 40, my real age is 29, and my physical age, appearance-wise, is 20.
Is there any wonder I am so messed up at times?
I have a boombox in my house in which I can put my XM receiver. But I am too lazy to keep bringing my XM receiver back and forth between the house and the van, so in the van it stays. I am not the type of person who can sit on the couch and be surrounded by silence, however, so the radio is on if the tv isn’t.
Somehow I landed on a station out of Providence, purporting to be the “original alt rock.” They play pretty cool music; right now is Blind Melon’s “No Rain,” which I have already discussed on this page (the video with the dancing little girl dressed up as a bumblebee).
One thing I despise about this radio station is the dj’s. This doesn’t surprise me; I usually despise dj’s in general. These are worse than any other dj’s I’ve heard, however. The girl who reads the news in the morning, right as I’m in the shower, mumbles and mutters her way through her copy, rendering everything she says totally illegible even when you don’t have water cascading over your head. The other dj’s tend to mutter as well, using a lot of “uhhhh”s and “ahhhh”s. It’s like none of them have gone to broadcasting school or even taken a single class in voice work.
Aside: My dad took a lot of classes in broadcasting, and has even done voice-over work. The voice he uses is totally different from his regular conversational tones, and it’s a lovely thing to hear.
At some point, the anvil plummeted from the sky and flattened me under its force. I finally heard the radio’s call letters, WBRU, and put two and two together and came up with four. Duh. They’re the college radio station out of Brown University! That also explains why all the commercials are geared towards college students going out and partying, and why the dj’s all sound like they have no training. They don’t. They’re Brown students.
Another aside: Why didn’t anyone ever tell me Brown University was in Providence?? I mean, who would have thought? I was under the impression that most of the fancy, Ivy League schools were in Massachusetts. No one tells me anything.
According to Wikipedia, while WBRU is staffed by Brown students, it’s actually commercially owned and receives no funding from the college.
Tonight’s dj was discussing the release of I Am Legend on DVD, and to commemorate the event, he asked for stories from listeners as to what they would do if they were the last people left in New York City. I was too busy playing Pogo to really pay attention. Besides, every time someone calls in to WBRU, they cuss so much that all you hear is a bleep every other word.
Finally the dj said he had the two stories he would pick from. Should he choose the guy who said he would take a leak off the Statue of Liberty, or should he choose the guy who said he would poop on home plate in Yankees Stadium?
The poop on home plate won.
Are you kidding me? This is why I think I am getting old. That’s just infantile. Talking about being the last person alive in NYC, and you would poop on home plate to show your disgust for the Yankees that wouldn’t even exist anymore? (Of course, now you’re discussing the fanaticism of Boston fans, but that’s a whole other conversation.)
And here’s the dj, who has to be a really bright guy since he’s attending Brown University, a private Ivy League school, thinking that peeing off the Statue of Liberty or pooping on home plate were the best two scenarios to choose from.
I guess I’m just getting too old for potty humor, though I’m not sure I was ever immature enough for it.