ABOUT TIME
is this going to be a thing?
About half my conversations begin with the phrase, “I was listening to a podcast and heard that…” It’s embarrassing, but I ams who I ams. I listen while I get ready, when I shower, when I jog, on the subway, on trains and airplanes, when I’m waiting for my hair to process and when I’m getting my nails painted, when I clean the bathroom, when I cook, when I walk down the street. I listen while I grocery shop, while I drive, while I watch SNL reruns, while I wait for my coffee to brew.
But, listening hasn’t always been my thing. I’m jealous when people say that they listened to NPR in the car with their parents, and that’s how they came to be so connected with shows like This American Life and A Prairie Home Companion… That’s not how I got my start. My love of talk radio first began when I’d just graduated from college and took a job as a GIS Technician where I was a glorified monkey paid to push buttons. I was there to solve the problems that the computer could not (yet) solve. To cut through the monotony, I listened to conservative and liberal talk radio, hoping to find my political truth in between.
One time, I was listening to Limbaugh and he was giggling to himself about an article in the New York Times magazine about the fashion of pubic hair written by a woman named Daphne Merkin. At the time, I didn’t know what a merkin was, so I didn’t get the joke—but you better believe I did my research. And, the irony of the piece is that it never discusses merkins as part of the fashion of pubic hair; her name just happens to be Merkin. This is a story I repeat with relative frequency. One recount resulted in my friend Mimi, who was teaching English in China at the time, telling me that in her city (Xi’an, I believe), kiosks sold merkins on the street—diamond merkins, heart-shaped merkins, blue furry merkins—to people passing by who might need to grab one along with a pack of smokes and some Lifesavers. Of course, I needed to know how merkins stayed in place (spirit gum) and why anyone would need one (there are many reasons, don’t you worry—hair loss, cancer, props for strippers and burlesque dancers…I digress). The reward, though, of sharing what I had mined without a guide from the radio buttressed my listening and I became more involved.
I made my way to NPR around that time, too, tuning in when I drove. Late-night rides were for British accents from the BBC, and when I was very lucky, my commute was paired with Fresh Air. Jackpot? A David Sedaris cameo on This American Life. But in New York City, where I live now, you can’t listen to live radio while you commute underground, so I found my way to podcasts. And subsequently, became a ’cast curator — you know, to my friends or whoever was within earshot. In my mind, I’m famous for it. I’m a pioneer in this effort, trolling the sound waves like a TV reviewer shuffles through stations.
I listen because I don’t like being alone with my thoughts or maybe because I have trouble organizing my thoughts if I’m not engaged in a task. I think that’s why I listen, I don’t know. Part of me is happy that someone is having the conversations I want to be having and that I can eavesdrop.
I will say that I’ve always been an audio person. My mom said when I was a very little girl I would create beats with the sounds I could hear walking down the street—leaves rustling, her heels clicking, a screen door flapping in the wind. I often repeat what I hear—I need to feel the words in my mouth or express the pattern that might go undetected if I don’t point it out. I dated a man once who had trouble getting used to this knee-jerk quality of mine. He said it would be like if he, a photographer, was constantly snapping a camera in my face. That’s depressing, huh? I think most people are endeared to me because of it: they see that I am engaging in them and paying attention to them and celebrating them. That is my perspective as it’s happening. Although, sometimes I should have better control. Like after purchasing some items this week, the woman helping me said, “The total is $111.57,” so I sang back to her: “We’re one-eleven fifty-seven and we don’t take no shit.” She laughed, “What’s that from?” And I shrugged, “Me? One-eleven fifty-seven sounds like a hip-hop ensemble…” Moments like this one happen quite often.
Finally, I’ve made many promises about podcasts. I’ve promised to put out a list, promised to set up someone’s RSS feed, promised to do something meaningful with the many hours of listening I’ve done. So, here is the inaugural effort. “A guide” tells you about what I’m listening to and have listened to, and the “Best-isodes” gives you a little rundown on my most memorable podcasts. Both will be updated on an ongoing basis. Either would be a useful tool to use in order to start your own listening if you don’t know where to begin and would like to.
I chose Medium.com as my launch pad because: 1. It’s free. 2. It’s beautiful and streamlined and thinkless. 3. The way the comment functions work gives you the ability to make a note on each paragraph instead of waiting to the end of something, I think it will be useful in both the guide and the best-isodes for encouraging a conversation about the podcasts I’ve listed in general and what you may have thought about specific episodes… So get into it, puh-lease.
