To The New Radio in the Kitchen

How many years did I live with the little blue bubble of a radio? Since we moved here, since before. It has a cassette player on top. This could be from the ‘80’s.

The old radio with cassette player

 I kept it on the window sill and every morning, I turned on Morning Edition while I made my lunch for work, poured cereal, toasted bread. My second and third cup of coffee. I prefer my news from the radio. Despite my love of reading, newspapers overwhelm me, the tiny text, the columns and columns, flipping through pages to finish a story, trying not to get distracted. Really, newspapers are too much work. I want to just listen. I never move the dial off public radio.

Over the years, though, I had to go through an elaborate series of fine tuning to get the signal to come in: a gentle push left then right of the “AM/FM button,” rolling the dial ever-so-slightly across 89.7, 89.65, 89.75. Somewhere in there was the sweet spot where the voice went from cloudy to clean. Some mornings I had to move the whole thing to face a little more west, a little more north; I could almost see the radio waves touching the antenna.

Finally one morning, when the sound would only come in clearly if I stood in one spot with my hand on the dial, as I was trying to eat my cereal off the counter with the other hand, already in my black dress for work, I decide, finally, enough is enough.

I make a deal with my son for the clock radio he has in his room and never ever uses. I swap a bag of gummy bears for it. He thinks he’s getting the better deal.

Downstairs, I plug it in. The time blinks big enough for me to see it from the doorway. I tune it to NPR and without hesitation or finesse, there she is: Terri Gross. Clear as I have ever heard her. I make a tea and no matter where I wander in the kitchen, no matter what cupboard I open or appliance I touch, her voice, that laugh right before she asks that question that no one else would dare to ask, it’s all as clear as if she was right beside me.

I traded gummy bears for this upgrade. Crystal clear sound

And then I wonder why it took me so long.

Honestly, sometimes I just forget that I don’t have to live the way I’m living. I think, this is what my life is. It’s this radio on this window sill and I need to make it work. And it can take years for me to tell myself it can change. I’ve gotten used to myself telling myself, “You’re such a fool.”