Ten years ago today... I never do this sort of thing, but I have been doing this blog for this show long enough that I suppose I can re-present some things I wrote many moons ago. So let's see what was happening on this blog ten years ago today, in the summer of 2008.
The post is titled "Whither Taxis?" The show that week was about taxis. I remember it well. I asked my friends Camille (who now lives in Memphis & with whom I'm still in contact) & Justin (with whom I haven't spoken in a very long time) to come over because I had written a play about taxis that I wanted them to do parts in. If I remember correctly, the play takes place during the airbreaks. Please understand, I haven't listened to this show, probably, ever. But I remember it fondly. Certainly it was fun working with friends.
Here's what I said then about the upcoming show:
People tell me I used to be a friendlier person. Now, they say, I seem a little closed-off, & a little sad. What gives, they ask. Who pooped in your mouth & called it salad?
Don't you think I know how I feel about the world? Don't you think I know that my weird little radio show that's not on the radio isn't like some kind of taxi without a passenger? Like a bus without one of those clumsy wheelchair ramps that take forever to deploy? Like an elevator that smells like vinegar & kills the cockroaches that crawl outside it? Like an escalator with dried ice cream caked forever into its ridges, sticking to your shoes & making you self-conscious as you stare at the pretty girl in the food court? Like a broken-down rickshaw mocking you as you walk, beaten & bruised, to the big Laotian city vowing revenge on the gangsters who robbed you, raped you & left you for dead? Like a baby carriage with a fat baby in it who's gotta be at least four & who sings like Rod Stewart? Like a dolly leaning slightly on an empty soda dispensing machine which rattles when the soda dispensing machine repairperson accidentally closes the door too fast & the noises causes him to drop fourteen dollars worth of quarters on the floor, which people inadvertently start kicking all over the place? Don't you think I know myself?
People tell me that self-awareness doesn't appear to be my problem. They say, why are you so defensive? Who stuck their finger in your ass & called it macaroni?
Don't you think I know that I appear defensive around you? Don't you see that one of my coping mechanisms is to continue doing Self Help Radio no matter who listens or where it is or whatever the fuck?
People tell me that they didn't even know I was a deejay. For the record, I tell them, I've ridden in taxis less than ten times in my life. People then tell me that they've got to go. & they go.
That summer Self Help Radio was not on the radio. It's a long story. But this summer Self Help Radio is not on the radio. The more things change...
If you'd like to listen to that show about taxis, I have uploaded it for your pleasure &/or irritation. The first part is here & the second part is here. The usual username/password issues apply. If you do listen, against everyone's better judgment, maybe don't tell me it's not as good as I remember it.
& if you see Justin, tell him I said hey.
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