The Morning Show

I love this radio program produced by Minnesota Public Radio. Everyday I start my morning by listening to Dale Connelly and Jim Ed Poole along with a nice cup of coffee. When I was growing up my dad would listen to it as he got ready for work while I ate breakfast with him before I was shipped off to school.

Listening to The Morning Show influenced my taste in music. The program plays a wide variety of genres and from many obscure (at least to me) artists. Which is probably why they recently moved the program to The Current on 89.3 instead of 91.1, which is the news station.

Growing up with shows like this one, A Prairie Home Companion, and other programs produced by MPR has actually been a blessing. I can hold a conversation with lots of people both young and old about the shows. These shows have given me my odd enjoyment for some bluegrass, gospel, and folk music now and then. Luckily, I've finally met some other people who enjoy the same things. Sunday morning I have a Prairie Home Companion and coffee date. I can't wait! Yes I'm nerdy I know, but it's worked out wonderfully for me so bug off!

Spring in MN

Spring time in Minnesota is a perilous journey to and from anywhere. The science behind water expanding, contracting, freezing and thawing all winter long brings me to the brink of insanity. I have to remember that once again I have to navigate around deep craters in the road that can easily be referenced as Minnesotan mine fields. Miss one 4-foot crater and BAMMMM CLUNK CLUNK in goes the car dipping, bobbing, shaking.

They are unavoidable most of the time. No matter how much I try to swerve around it one of my tires seems to find itself testing its air holding limits. The most valiant attempts to miss the pothole usually end up with a tilted car and a scraping sound. After driving over the hole I often notice that my original track would have missed the black hole entirely. Kind of like driving in traffic; each time I switch into the faster lane I end up in a stand still again while the others pass me by.

What’s worse is when I don’t even see the pothole coming. The roadway just opens up out of no where and tries to make my Chevy biff it. I can just imagine the black top with its yellow center line buckle up and start laughing as it snagged another victim.

There are those relatively small potholes with their quick ins and outs that create an air of extreme annoyance, but are soon forgotten. However, the deep monsters that try to swallow my blazer whole can cause anger for hours. I'm peacefully minding my own business when suddenly I get sucked in for the ride of my life. Either one side of the car gets plopped down in a five million mile rut jolting the car and me in a never ending UHUHUHUHHUHUHUHUHUHUH, or the roadway opens an obstacle course like the tires in a boot camp, run/skip/jump. More UHUHUHUHUHing and thunking, and banging until the final OOOFFF at the end as the I swerve out of the dang pothole.