THANK GOD FOR THE INTERNET,
MY DOG, AND GOOD BOOKS--

I am one of those social anachronisms that effectively have no TV in the house. The closest I come is two weak broadcast channels out of Columbus that dribble down from my antennae and give me about a half hour of news each evening at dinner time.

This happens only when the wind is from the south, that is, and their signal is strong enough to overpower the electronic snow.

The cable moguls haven’t found it profitable enough to deliver what passes for programming service down my sparsely populated road. And, their satellite cohorts still insist on bundling about a zillion worthless channels with the half dozen or so that might interest me. I have this quaint habit of not paying for things that are worthless.

Some years back I would have included FM radio in my opening remark.
Nah, no more. They have mostly homogenized and clear-channeled themselves into ho-hum producers of sound-alike noise.

For the first several hours of FM programming each morning they are cookie cutters of giggle-on-cue bimbos jawboning sophomoric blather with their on-air, male accomplices. The radio dial has been infected with boring sameness.

I always have a chuckle when one local FM outlet advertises itself with “More music—less talk” all afternoon and evening. They are correctly shooting themselves in the foot with a candid admission their morning schedule is about as pleasurable as watching paint dry.

With radio, there is one notable exception; 107.3 FM, “The Wave” a delightful, mostly jazz listening experience out of Cleveland. Even there, though, I have the poor fortune of being located in the weak signal margins of their broadcast area.

Gottta stop now. My pooch wants to go for a hike and the library just sent me a notice across the Web one of my requested books has arrived.