On the Friday before a long holiday weekend, commuting to a work-related meeting on a nice, sunny morning is not the worst assignment you can get. And my Friday was considerably enhanced by discovering a great radio program.
I usually listen to CMU public radio, our local public station -- honey-tongued hosts playing soothing classical music on weekdays, plus BBC News around the lunch hour; the only news program I take seriously. I hardly ever twiddle the dial on my car radio. But for the past couple of days my reception has been wonky, so I had to nudge the tuner over to an affiliated station, Delta College public radio. Its offerings range from something called the Linda Lee Polka Show to Ed Gordon to Latino music and news, and lots of other programming; it's an interesting change of pace, to say the least. But the show I've absolutely fallen in love with is Women in Music , which it broadcasts Fridays from about noon until 2:00 p.m. Wow. Wow. It's all women, all the time -- classics by the likes of Joni Mitchell, but also a lot of new, independently produced music crossing the genres -- jazz, Celtic, worldbeat. Yesterday I was freakin' my freak to some funky Brazilian tune in a manner that I'm sure frightened several oncoming drivers. (My dance aesthetic can be described, in the words of Seinfeld's George Costanza, as full-body dry heave.) Now, if it makes LC bounce around in the car, you know it's good music. 88-percent-cocoa candy bar good; "hairdresser who doesn't make me look like Moe of the Three Stooges" good; waking up at 3 a.m., thinking, "Oh...today's Saturday" and happily falling back to sleep good.
I know some of you more cosmopolitan folk are probably chuckling right now...but in a part of the world where local radio is pretty much limited to either fundamentalist fulminating or the Toby Keith school of Kaiser kurios country jingoism, finding a program like this is remarkable. It made me smile for the rest of the afternoon.
And -- bonus pleasure points -- I had some time to kill before my meeting, so I zipped around to a little greenhouse just outside of town. I felt like one of those contest participants who get two minutes to fill a shopping basket; I basically sprang from my vehicle and raced through the place like a mad woman. I was looking for heirloom tomato plants, which I did not find, but I did find a fancy-leaved geranium with cream, burgundy and chartreuse patterned leaves. Gorgeous; a Victorian painted lady deserving of more respect by gardeners. It joins my maple-leaved burgundy-green fancy-leaved that I resurrected from a nubbin this winter.
It really does not take a lot to amuse and delight me.