The Radio Deejay

I just became a volunteer disc jockey at a college campus. It's been a lifelong dream to be in radio and I finally got my chance after several detours. I open the studio door and the console lights shine in the dark studio, ready for another music session with our listening audience as I prepare for another broadcast. As a disc jockey, I try to envision who is listening: A lonely traveller? A party of friends? People at work? Or background noise in someone's kitchen? I like to think of myself as a host brnging us close as one community. Between songs, I try to give information about obscure artists and songs and shocase new talent, but mainly I try to bring a message of being one of us. Welcome to the party, as the radio waves shoot out into the ether in the winter's night sky. That we are all enjoying good music together regardless of distance, people around us or circumstance. In the booth, I try to remember: like God, someone is always listening.

A World Built for Two

Each summer, I enjpy going to a winery for a drink and to listen to live music, and as summer approached this year, I highly anticipated returning. As I apprached the crowded patio, I seen once again finding a seat would be a challenge. Navigating through the crowd, I noticed an empty picnic table in the back and happily occupied it. It gave me thevantage point of watching the crowd as well as the band.All the seating was designed for groups, whether they were picnic tables or tables with multiple chairs with them. No seats just set for us loners, and I can understand that people arrice in groups or couples, so they have to be accomodated. However, for the occasional loner who shows up, it can be a bit embarrassing. One, you feel a little guilty taking up a whole table yourself when new people arrive and looking for seats. The other you feel like people are wondering why are you there alone, like you don't have friends and are out there drifting aimlessly. Sometimes you feel someone might take pity on you and invite you over, and then possibly be seen as a charity case who needs friends or an interloper of the group. Life is about being with people, I suppose, but some of us, by choice or other circumstances, are cast as loners through this journey. I like to think if I had my own venue, I would place single chairs about as a way to say to everyone, alone or in a group, that you are welcome, and be not embarassed.

The Flag Lowered Again

One of my duties at the college where I work is the lowering and raising of the flag. It is an honor to raise the colors to full glory and the rays of sunshine lighting the flag up. However, in recent times, somber occasions require me to lower the flag to half staff, much of those instances due to mass shootings. It is a constant and increasing chore that has become far too much commonplace. It has gotton to the point I have lost track on when the flag has to be raised again, pending the next violent deaths that shook our nation again. I have the feeling that it should be a white flag instead, of truce or surrender (I wish I knew which).

An Old Book Revisited

While rummaging through a library where I work doing security, I cam across an a book entitled "Working" by Studs Terkel in 1973. In it he interviwed an array of people about their occupations, from jockey to actor, hotel clerk to bookbinder and so forth. It gives an insight to those working in fields about their frustrations, lost hopes, and getting by in a job that some don't like, fell into, and pending retirement amidst lost dreams that wer not fulfilled. It was this particular book I read numerous times in high school in 1984. A time for big dreams, ambition, and a world that was going to be taken on by all of us graduates.I couldn't wait to get out in the real world and find my place: a builder of skyscrapers and bridges, an artistof beautiful pictures, or a reporter writing about the issues of our day in a national news magazine. Alas, it was not meant to be, I bounced around from one job to another, and struggled to finish my college degree when others had already established their careers, Reading the book again has becoome bittersweet nostalgia: what I thought what might have been but was never meant to be in the first place. I like to pick that book up and reread the stories of those people incareers I thought I could participate in but never could for one reason or another. I see a young sixteen year old whith high ideals and big plans reading in a high school library, and me now reading the same book in a college library where I work, and wonder whatever happened to that young man, and not only am I a bit humbled, but I also miss him and wonder whatever happened.

Summer's End

On a warm Saturday night, I decided to attend a local festival as the last throes os summer were set to disappear into the chilly fall.I walked by the food stands of kettle corn, cotton candy, and funnel cake and enjoying their aroma. Walking through the crowd, families stroled by as found a lone place to smoke a cigar. Over the years, I have found I can enjoy the gathering of people as I watch from afar, and vicariously participating in the joy of the day. A rock oldies band started to play as everyone enjoyed the music and the day slowly turned into twilight as a harvest moon eventually appeared. Nestled in the heart of the Alleghenies, there was a feeling of warmth and safety around our loved ones and neighbors. Later, on a Sunday after an evening service as the days of August were winding down, our church gathered for a softball game. It was a day of fun, a gathering of families and friends enjoying the waning day before sunset, and knowing that fall lay ahead the days of summer warmth just a memory.

Loss of a Book Store, and loss of Discovery

Walking through a local mall, I looked forward to visiting the book store. As I approached, the sight of a dark and shutttered space greeted me. Another book store closed, and I feel the world of discovery and learning is poorer for it. A victim, perhaps, of the e-book, a portable screen costing $200.

While I won't dispute the efficiency of the e-book, I will miss the leisurely browsing and walking up and down the aisles checking out whatever book the struck my interest. Whatever book I looked at closely, by cover design, color, or title, I was free to pick it up, and read from it. You may never have heard of the author or title, but there was an allure of the book that drew you closer to inspect what the story wove.

Another missed pleasure is just being able to pick up a book, to open it up, and turn a page. The texture of the paper itself, and turning the page to see how the narritive continues was part of the experience of discovery. Each book had an identity of its own in size, color, or graphics.
I love e books however and the amount of information and books they carry, and I like to think digital and print can coexist.
The sliding a finger across a screen and swiping is fine, but can never take the place of turning the page to continue your literary journey of a story in a real book.

Appreciation

"What might have been", "live with no regrets", and other such sayings guided my thinking for years. Always pushing for some new opportunity, I was never satisfied, and yet never happy either. The Quakers call it living in simplicity, where a slower pace of life, work/life balance, not bound to the latest fashions and technology, and not spending your money on a lot of luxaries are desired goals. I am no longer seeking out a more expensive car and home, living in a bigger city with a higher cost of living and a long commute. Appreciate what you have. Life with family and friends, work life balance, money saved for stormy days, and working in a respectful and appreciative environment are the values that mean the most to me in my career and life.