Green onions on my cutting board and my radio

I'm just waiting for dinner to cook and am hoping the dish fairies will come and dry my dishes. A few moments ago, while chopping green onions, CBC Radio 2 just played Booker T and the MGs Green Onions, a song which never fails to put me in a great mood. This week, while hiding from the humidity, I've become an addict of CBC Radio 2 or, as it's been called, the New Radio Two. I sought it out last week when I wanted someone to give me something new to listen to and to show me something that I would not find on my own. Radio has, I realize, always been a huge part of my life but I'd forgotten about it recently. It's easy to get distracted by podcasts, web radio, and iPods. Lately, though, I've been thinking a lot about radio and have been trying to think about what makes radio so magical. I think it's that element of surprise, delight and intimacy. Even though some shows are podcast now, there's still that sense of the fleeting moment of radio. Once it's passed, it could be gone. One never knows what's coming next: it could be great, it could be ok, it could make you run for the volume (either up or down). Last week, I found myself doing something with CBC 2 that I've never done with a podcast or web radio. Even though I was exhausted and needed to be up in a few short hours, I couldn't bring myself to turn it off. I wanted to know what was coming next. I felt like my brother must have when he was about 10 or 12. Most nights, I'd hear my parents at his door: "Is your radio off??" and he'd offer a weak "Yeah..." Through our shared wall, however, I could hear the tinny sound of music coming out of cheap little white earphones he attached to his little pocket radio. Often I could hear it until the wee hours of the morning.