As we drove from North Dakota into Montana on Wednesday evening, the sun was setting and I was getting tired. We'd been driving since 9 that morning (central time) and it was almost 8 (mountain time). I scanned through the chanels on the truck's radio and stopped on a classic rock station which was finishing off some song I didn't recognize from the early 80's I figured. It went to a comercial break, but I stuck with the station because my other two options were a country station and an all-jesus-all-the-time station.
As the station returned from break, it went through its call sign
"One hundred point five. The rock."
< Dead silence >
I kept glancing down at the dial and started to chuckle to myself. They were broadcasting dead air; how embarassing. Thirty seconds passed. I was cracking up. These idiots clearly didn't have a very high value on their air time if they were letting thirty seconds go by without broadcasting anything. How unprofessional. A minute passed. I started to get a little peeved. The sun was setting into my eyes, so I adjusted the sun visor -- I was only able to see the road up to the horizon in front of me. Two minutes passed, still no music. Man, these guys seriously need work. I started to forget that I was listening to the radio. Five minutes passed. Then I finally hear
"One hundred point five. The rock"
< Dead silence >
Someone's clearly gone to take a shit after queueing up a whole bunch of music. The call signs keep coming but the music they've queued is not. Well surely their boss is listening to the radio and will jump into the booth and straighten the mess out. Five more minutes pass; my mind wanders and I start to get sleepy. Fortunately, the radio comes to its senses and I hear
"One hundred point five. The rock"
< Dead silence >
AAAAAAAAA. Play something goddamnit!
I switched to the country station.
Monday, August 20, 2007
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