Inspiration in the form of a plush rhino

It's funny, the things that stick with you.

I was in a meeting this afternoon at work, just before quitting time. A radio network was in to introduce our new sales rep to the media department.

Towards the end of the meeting, discussion turned to the comeback of talk radio. Someone asked whether Paul Harvey was still around... they assured us that he was, though he's got to be something like 86 at this point. This prompted a few Paul Harvey jokes ("His picture was taken when FM radio was introduced!"), and my supervisor turned to me and said "You probably don't know who they're talking about."

I actually do.

My dad used to pick me up from gymnastics practice, before the days when I was at workouts 20+ hours per week. We'd stay to watch the older girls for a few minutes, then head home so that I could finish my homework and eat dinner.

This was back in the days of the Oldsmobile Cutlass--not to be confused with the Oldsmobile station wagon that I inherited when I turned 16. The Cutlass was navy blue, and ancient. I came home from the hospital in that thing, and it stuck around until I was 12. The seats had the kind of padding only seen in senior citizens' land yachts nowadays, with bench seats in the front and the rear.

I digress.

My dad has a thing for talk radio. AM radio will stay around at least until he dies solely because it's the only thing that he listens to, apart from a few Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney, and Beach Boys CDs. Every drive home from practice, he'd have the Paul Harvey Show on the radio.
Every practice, my tortured 11-year old soul would beg him to change the station, to no avail. Paul Harvey was there to stay, no matter how much whining and pleading I did.

Back then, money was tighter. We didn't go without--we had sports, and my mom was always home for us. It was a tradeoff. We didn't go on big family vacations, and meals from McDonalds were a treat. I can probably count on two hands the number of times I went out to a "real" restaurant before junior high. As such, things like randomly buying supplies to make rice krispie treats at the grocery store were not the norm.

But every time we made that drive, with Paul Harvey in the background, my dad would pull into the Popeyes drive-thru and order me a small Coke and a biscuit.

When my supervisor asked me if I'd heard of Paul Harvey today at the meeting, I smiled, thought about those drives home, and said yes.

posted by K @ 3:55 PM