Ended up making stew late into the evening tonight.
A blues program on the radio kept me company. Local show, from the nearby college that broadcasts half NPR and half local programming. “The Juke Joint,” one of the last remaining music programs- broadcast only on Sunday nights.
I have a long and complicated relationship with the station. I used to love it on a level you probably wouldn’t believe. When it had real and interesting apolitical programming. When every sunday at noon I could spend two hours listening to the News From Lake Wobegon and the exploits of Guy Noir Private Eye, all interspersed with guest bluegrass and gospel bands and other funny little old time radio gags and sketches.
I used to just drive around looking at scenery, smoking a doobie. Fresh out of meeting Gary for breakfast at Mabel’s Diner. The sun in my eyes. The bright sun of youth’s promised future.
Even back then, this guy hosting the blues show was around. The “Duke of Juke.” I saw him in person once at a small irish music concert at the college 20 years ago. He had a huge white mustache that matched his white boomer tennis shoes, none of which matched his business casual outfit.
Back then NPR had all kinds of music programming. Late night Jazz and Blues, Thistle and Shamrock, Americana Music Hour, A Prairie Home Companion, World Cafe (ohhhh the world cafe how I miss thee!) and The Juke Joint, with this guy.
I always though he was a huge dork compared to the rest of the lineup. I’d do impressions of him all the time, in much the same way one might impersonate Bill Lumberg from Office Space. He annoyed me, for some reason. And he was ALWAYS on it seemed. ALWAYS hosting something. I couldn’t get rid of him.
Now he’s all that’s left.
I paused my cooking and hopped on the computer. Googled his address at the station and shot him the following message:
Dear Duke
With so much change over the last 20 years, you’ve become a Rock of culture in my life. At this point I don’t know what I would do without you. Thanks for keeping CMU rocking, I’ve got you blasting in the kitchen while I whip up some stew. I’ll save you a bowl.
Much Love,
And I signed it with my name.
Five minutes later he read it live on air.
“And much love right back to you, Gabriel.”
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