Tuning Out...

It must be a sign of age that I've started to be very sensitive about what my eyes see and my ears hear. When I was younger, I used to avoid horror movies. They seemed to slither into my subconscious, their raking claws and glowing red eyes appearing when least expected. Usually at 3:17 a.m. when I was all alone and in the dark. Eventually, this avoidance progressed to movies with any kind of cruelty or abuse to animal or human. Then it evolved to include even a good suspense. Now I watch mostly animated movies with the odd rom com and special effects superhero movie tossed into the mix. Some might think me a bore. But I've come to embrace my delicate psyche. 

Recently, I've noticed this fragility has expanded to include my sense of hearing. When I first moved to this area nearly twenty years ago, I listened to EZ Rock 104.9. They played music from the seventies, eighties and today, which happened to be the nineties back then. Great tunes. Easy on the ears. I even enjoyed the banter between the early morning hosts. My listening life was good. Then someone mentioned a new station called, Magic 99. I abandoned tried and true for new. Their programming was similar to EZ Rock so I settled in to their wavelength. I even won Leonard Cohen tickets and his complete CD set through one of their contests. Life was humming along. Until suddenly, without notice, they became UP 99. I didn't like what I heard so I said, "Up yours.", and tuned out. 

I searched the dial and eventually found Lite 95.7. Jamie and Dan, a young married couple hosted the morning show. I liked how they talked about life and what it's like to be a couple, have kids, work together, juggle everything. I joined them on Facebook and often commented on their posts. Once again, my listening life was good and I was content. Then in January of this year, without warning, Lite 95.7 became CRUZ 95.7. Gone were the familiar deejays and playlists. I was incensed. How could they??? I was in search once again. Press seek and ye shall find. 

I tried Capital FM with Rob and Audie. As much as I enjoy the oldies, that's not all I want to hear. I tried CISN but I can't overdose on country either. I even tried CBC. Gack!!! So I tuned in to 104.9 again, hoping to find an old friend. Instead, I found Virgin radio. The morning show is hosted by Dylan and Pepper. That should've been my first clue. They talk about commuter dating and when was your 'first time'. If you're a virgin when you started listening, you won't be for long. Ryan Seacrest provides some reprieve from ten until two but he's miles away from where I am and what matters to me. The playlist is a little edgier too and I'm not fond of rap. So once again, I'm left without a station to call home. 


Mornings will be quiet. Maybe I'll do some yoga and write more. Goodness knows I could use the practice in both. But wait. I hear there's a new station in town. It's called, Fresh 92.5. An optimist by nature, I should give them a try, see what they're all about. If I don't get Fresh, I might have to dole out some cash and get Sirius. 

An Unlikely Friendship...

I have this ache. Sometimes it’s like a knot stuck in a spot that makes it tough to swallow. Other times it feels soft and watery and makes it hard to speak. The first time I noticed it was when I was sixteen and abruptly left home. I didn’t realize until then the power of heartstrings. I was so young, a new bride and I needed my Mom. But circumstances prevented us from communicating. The resulting ache had a mind of its own and made for tear-filled nights and leaden bed-covers every morning. 

I lived with that ache for almost a year before Mom and I were finally reunited. Our meetings were clandestine; stolen moments in her yard on a sunny afternoon or Saturday’s at Kresge’s lunch counter. Sometimes we met over laundry and folded and talked. She wasn't just my mother she was my best friend.

I did have other best friends. I still do. Two of them - so precious now because they’ve known me for a lifetime. But back then, they were going to school and dating. I was married and working full time. We just didn’t have as much in common. When I was excited about getting a vacuum cleaner for Christmas that first year they thought I’d lost a screw. Thankfully, the years have been kind to the three of us and we remain as close as sisters. But miles separate us and the ache insists I visit at least twice a year. The ache is nothing if not persistent.

Recently the ache has plucked a forgotten friend from memory and danced her through my heart’s corridors. We became friends through our spouses and that friendship kept us sane when our lives were less so. We traveled as couples. Even better we traveled as friends. But best of all we saw each other every day. We talked on the phone. We walked. We laughed. We shared everything. She was my rock after I gave birth to a breakable baby and a comfort when I lost precious family members. She was the sole witness to my crumbling marriage and even provided a safe haven when it ended. 

I lost custody of so much in that ordeal. My children, my home, my belongings. But in retrospect, one of the greatest losses was that friendship. Neither one of us realized it was chattel. The continuation of our friendship was not mutually beneficial because circumstances made it uncomfortable. So it was severed. Like a rotting appendage.

It’s been nearly twenty years and I still miss her like I would my right arm. I realize now that I took our friendship for granted. I was cavalier in thinking I’d make another friendship just like it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve made acquaintances I thought were friends, and I have arm’s length friends and people I consider friends, but not the true-blue kind, like the one I had but lost. Maybe I’m too needy or expect too much. It could be I was just lucky to ever have found that ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ friend. 

Mom told me that it wasn’t easy to find a good friend as you got older. She was right. People have their families and well established friendships by the time they reach middle age. Demands on life and time just don’t make new friendships feasible or practical. I get that. The ache doesn’t. It’s a bit thick as aches go. It’s also moody, demanding and a royal pain. It’s always there, replaying fond memories, making me laugh, reminiscing. 

I can’t imagine life without it.