|Shock Jock - Howard Stern|
We haz the same hair
I must say that it is beautifully written and I'm totally yomping through it, but of course, I don't think that I'm REALLY going through the change ..... that isn't going to happen to me.
But when I got to the part in Chapter 2 about the 'pathological creativity....interminable crochet, amateur watercolours book groups and other horrors' I recognised my self and conceded defeat: I am that middle-aged woman.
But I intend to fight it all the bloody way. And to this end, I have announcement to make: I haz a radio show.
Isn't it bonkers?
And even more bonkers is the fact that it's a Tarot radio show. Here. On the island. I'm betting that I'll waken up the morning after my first show is broadcast to find a massive flaming cross embedded in the front lawn.
I bashed off an e-mail message to one of the guys that runs our local community radio station - would they be interested in a Tarot show? He bashed back a message to me - can you come down and we'll talk about it?
So it came to pass that I found myself in the
And they agreed.
Could I give them a sample of what I proposed?
Of course, I smiled.
I raced home and booted up the mac. Garage band had a thing for podcasts. Only snag was that I didn't know how to work Garage Band and I didn't know how to do a podcast. Well, not knowing what I'm doing has never stopped me in the past :-)
Sonshine stood pensively at my shoulder: 'What ARE you doing?'
Me *banging away at buttons and talking to the bright - and frankly unresponsive screen* 'I'm doing a podcast. Do you know how to make this bloody thing work?'
Sonshine shoos me out of the chair and expertly starts banging buttons. Nothing happens. 'Do you know what you're doing?' I ask.
'Not really,' comes the reply.
I shoo him out of the chair and start banging the buttons again myself. And lo! I start recording my own voice. And the telly. But still, it's a start......
*does the wavy hands thing and we cut to many hours later*
'Well, that's it done,' I croak pathetically to Sonshine.
'Have you done a full one hour show then?' he asks, never taking his eyes off his DS.
I check the stopwatch. Twenty three minutes. I have been talking for over 3 hours and I have only 23 minutes of work to show for it. And 14 of them are Elvis Costello, Blondie and Del Amitri.
What the hell, I decide to hand it in anyway. I manage - by some strange stroke of luck - to turn it from a .band file to an mp3 file and load it onto my usb stick.
I drop it off the following day at the studio.
That evening the radio chap phones 'Yeah, that's fine......you start on Monday 7th January. Is that ok with you?'
And that, dear reader, is how your mid life crisis takes wings. You get a community radio show.