KUNM

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Oooo, I want so much for that nearly-twenty years not to have happened! I realized today I can't work the computers. I can't access wav files, and have no idea how one does sound on computers.

I tried to print ONE PAGE of my dang blog for a reporter today. It printed TWENTY SEVEN PAGES, THREE TIMES! I was mortified!

I'm so scared I'll be perceived as the doofus at the rolodex.

I'm so scared I'll never catch up.

I'm so scared of being left behind.

I have so much talent. I have so much love. I have so much creativity, commitment, enthusiasm, motivation.

But, for most of the days of my life, I'm perceived as a crazy bag lady, pushing my cart and picking trash.

By the way, on the way home, I found a 30 gal., molded plastic trash barrel, with lid, in a dumpster, and it has wheels. I can store fire wood in it. It's cracked on the bottom, so I can't use it to soak laundry or anything. Come to think of it, it'd make a great composter! hmmm....

I also found a 2 drawer filing cabinet.

I'm going to ask Rachel Kaub, the volunteer coordinator, of she'd like to have it for her office. I was thinking, last time I was in there, that they need one. There's a big pile of papers on the floor...

I actually spent money today. On the way there, I stopped at the Swiss bakery. I got 3 or 4 day-old bear claws and a bag of sugarless almond cookies. And, on the way home, I stopped at...gasp!....Wendy's for 4 bacon cheeseburgers: two for lunch, two for supper. I have a beef roast, thawing in the fridge. But it'll take at least 2 hrs to cook.

First song Carol Boss played on free form was "brother, can you spare a dime?" I was walking across campus, and just sang and sang...to hell with what people thought.

once, I built a tower to the sun: brick and morter and lime; once, I built a tower; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?"

right on.

So, I totally freaked out in the radio station today, feeling like a frumpy, dumpy dinosaur who woke up in a science fiction version of a radio station. Where people burn cds and post .wav files. Hell, I used to edit my news stories on cassette tapes with real Scotch tape! HONEST TO GOD!

Now, there's blackberries, cell phones, lap tops....

and I'm on a webtv, pushing a cart, wearing trash. gawd.

I want those years back! I'm SO SORRY I EVER moved to Kentucky! As long as I was in California, I was on the radio. I was part of the community.

Now, I'm a fringe, a freak, a failure in the eyes of most of the people I pass.

These little blogs, which so few people read, have kept me sane. Even though only about 10 people read each blog, each day and visit my humble domain.

Without these blogs, I don't know WHAT I would have done!

I want to HELP! I want to CONTRIBUTE! I want to CREATE! And, gawd help me, I want to pass on some of what I know!

I'm trying to be patient. But I have a serious feeling I don't have much time left. And I have the feeling this might well be my last chance.

This means SO much to me!

I asked Rachel today if I could speak with her a minute. I told her how I feel, short version.

She understood and I thanked her for hearing me.

I asked to withdraw my application for the radio theater coordinating position. But I also said I have lots of energy for working in it. I just don't have the technical detail skills, and it would take me too long and would interfere.

I also said I'm more than willing to learn anything anybody's patient enough to teach me.

It's a 2 hr. round trip walk to that station. As much as I wanted to just hunker in bed today with my cats, I did it. The snow chased me home. The wind was like a hacksaw.

And I'd do it again tomorrow, if they'd let me.

Renee, the news director, has been extremely ill since I started. She's been in the hospital. So, I have to wait 'til she gets back.

In the mean time, though, as marginally as it is, I'm back in the middle of my first love: A public radio station, in the news department. Oh, I'm only organizing the rolodex, true. But I'm back where I belong.

I'm not as hip and kewl and connected and politically correct and presentable as most of the people whom I see around me.

But the voices in the halls, hovering over my borrowed desk, in the ladies room stall next to me, on the elevator and in the parking lot are the voices I listen to every day. They're voices I trust and respect.

Hopefully, I'll be one of them again soon. I've been silent too long.

Wish me luck. This means the world to me!