A while back, I got tired of the morning radio DJs. Bobby Bones and his crew were so ignorant they made my 19-year-old classmates (who bitched that the Friday before the UT/OU football game should be a holiday, cause “who would go to class anyway?”) look like an MIT graduate, and Jason and Deb only talked for about three minutes before I always had to hear the same five songs (“I can ride my bike with no handlebars…” does get old eventually). But nobody wants to wake up to a buzzing digital alarm. So NPR got the nod.
It was election season, every story was about Obama or McCain, with which I was obsessed at the time, so I was in heaven. I came into work more informed, saved time on reading political blogs, was able to make astute observations and talk cogently with coworkers about the whole thing. And when the election was over, I noticed that NPR had great news stories in the morning. Most times, if it wasn’t about something I was already interested in, I was by a couple minutes into the story.
I was hooked. NPR had me and has never let me go.
I don’t spend a lot of time in my car. Ten minutes to work, ten minutes home, a few minutes on the weekends. Austin is not a big town, and there’s not a lot of commuter time. So my CDs don’t get much play, and there’s rarely an occasion to change the station. (“A Prairie Home Companion” being the exception – it’s a show made for old people, right? It is, right? I’m not missing something, am I?) What that means is that when the Janx says, “you know the lyrics to that new song that’s all over the radio?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. At all.
And when I look on MTV, I have no idea who I’m watching. Celebrity blogs, which used to be one of my favorite hobbies, seem to be about a bunch of strangers doing stupid things. It feels like my finger is no longer on the pop cultural pulse anymore and it’s a weird new feeling. Like I’m a step closer to saying “kids these days” and NOT meaning it ironically.
These days I know about the political changes in Russia, what our next step is in Afghanistan, how the rebuilding of China is going after the earthquake last year, how violent the Mexican drug cartels have become. But don’t ask me what F-level actress Criss Angel was last seen with (that is, if he’s even relevant anymore) or whether Lindsey Lohan and her lesbian DJ girlfriend are still together (that is, if LiLo is even still a lesbian). I have no idea. At all.
The question that has arisen from all this is: does this make me a better person? Or worse? Am I an old fogey now or just better informed about the more boring things in the news? And is there a way I can be up on both?
I used to be the guy who was up on every stupid celebrity faux paux, knew what movies were coming out and when, and could go on at length about why one dumbass gaffe was infinitely funnier then another. Or at least, that’s who I fancied myself. And that guy would not only have known about the lyrics to the newest Britney Spears song, he would have a hilarious riff about how stupid it was. Now I am the guy who shrugs and says, “I only listen to NPR,” and kills every conversation with my pretension.
But ask about defense spending in the new budget, and we can talk about that.
Just seems like the only people I can talk about that with are the NPR newscasters. And they just don’t seem to want to listen.
