Not Sure Hank Done it This Way

Day 2.

Today, I cheated. And I feel absolutely horrible about it. Two days in, and I couldn’t help myself. I had to open up my browser.

I hate all the music on my iPod right now. No, I actually love it all, and when I’m cruising around town on the Vino, I sing loud and off-key to Waylon Jennings, Postal Service, Bright Eyes, George Straight, Metal Heart, Kanye West….and on and on and on.

But I would have never found Metal Heart or Bright Eyes were it not for Pandora – an internet based streaming music site. I type in something I like and then, if something wonderful and new catches my ear, I write it down and download it later. I’m trying to fight off stagnancy, and it’s a lot of work. In high school, my music collection consisted mostly of Counting Crows and Garth Brooks. When it came to music, I had a seizure helmet and a drool cup. Mostly, I credit my Meg for bringing me out, for demanding that I listen to Weezer, Karate, the 80’s Mix and the Middle School Dance Mix. Then I got an iPod and learned to download music.

Now, at work, I cruise stations like LaunchCast and live365 to keep up with new, mainstream stuff, click around alternative and indie rock stations to hear something new.

All of these stations have something in common though: none of them are necessarily local. The advertisements (if there are any) are generalized and nationally played.
One of the things that secretly makes me happy about living in such a liberal city is that we have a gay radio station. I don’t listen to it…because I don’t own a radio, but on those rare moments that I find myself in a car, I’m tickled to death when someone tunes into Greg and Fernando, and the space fills with the blunt caress of remixed divas.

I got to thinking about this the other day while I ate outside, across the street from the weekly farmer’s market. I’m so lucky to live in one of the neighborhoods where, once a week, local independent shops and eateries set up tents and peddle organic, local grown, independent food. Neighborhood people wander in, and everytime I’m there, I run into people I know and say ‘hi’ for the first time to people I’ve seen around but never really met. It reminds me of going to the Piggly Wiggly when I was a kid. It seemed like we knew everyone there.

I like that, and I began to wonder, why don’t I do that w/ my music? What will it be like to move my listening habits away from anonymous bulk stations to the local gay station, the local country station, local public radio, etc. What richness of San Francisco am I missing by not listening to the radio?

And this brings me back to the cheating. I don’t have a radio, and today, I needed music. New music. Like hipsters need PBR!

So, I logged on, found a provider that would pipe in FM95.7 The Wolf! San Francisco’s only country station. Then I streamed it via the internet all day. I practically marinated in songs about pick-up trucks.

I’m torn. I feel my cheatin’, pathetic self unable to put up with my over-listened to music collection for one day. But at the same time, I signed on to find a local station, one that defied my usual internet listening ways. It wasn’t anonymous. They advertised for local things, concerts and car lots w/ catchy, locally written jingles. I wonder, did I violate the spirit of the project by trying to subscribe to one of the seemingly basic principles of the project?

In other news, the house is clean. One project on my months overdue ‘to-do’ list is done. I have journal-ed, cooked, printed off my homework for next week, read the newspaper, and will shortly, join real live people for real live beer. I’ve also added ‘buy radio’ to my shopping list for the weekend.

antiochlogan@yahoo.com