We’ve been driving around hunting for cheap-ish furniture, with varying degrees of success. Our car — a 2000 Toyota — doesn’t have a satellite receiver, or even a CD player. There is a tape deck, but it’s busted. I’ve got a thingamajig for my iPod that dials into empty stations, but it sounds like crap. So we’ve been forced to listen to local radio on our little excursions.
I did manage to find a saucy old-school funk station, 96.3 WHUR. A couple of days ago, one of the DJs went on a righteous rant about what it means to be a man. The first rule of manhood, according to this jock, is to respect women. Amen, brother. Additionally, he blames his own generation (45-55 year-olds) for the ill behavior of certain young black males. Why? Because as the older fellas became established, they "stopped teaching." Score one for personal responsibility.
DC 101 is a modern rock station that plays all of the cookie-cutter crap you’d expect.
NPR is based here; that’s kinda cool.
More interesting for me is C-SPAN Radio. Just yesterday, I spent an hour listening to a lecture by a prominent nuclear scientist/policy advisor on the future of our aging arsenal. Through this, I found a great blog, ArmsControlWonk.com. Earlier, we heard a speech by Tony Blair on the evolution of media. If our Prez ever utters a single sentence as thoughtful as the soon-to-be-ex-PM, I’ll run naked through the Smithsonian. How the fuck did these two ever find any common ground? I guess it must be JesusTM — The Ultimate Bonding Agent.
The car’s scan function seems to prefer smooth jazz and Spanish-language stations. Who knows? Maybe I’ll learn the language and develop a taste for Kenny G.
OK, off to seek out more furniture and tolerable radio. Happy Father’s Day.