Bob Edwards is Mine. Mine I Say. All Mine.

I bought a new car. It came with a trial sample of satellite radio, and I am way hooked. I am also having an affair with Bob Edwards. It's pretty much a one-sided relationship. As between the two of us, he does all of the talking, but that's ok. He has the voice, and a bunch of writers keep him fresh and witty. There is no down side. Oh, and right. He doesn't know about me yet. But some day he will. I am going to interview him, get the scoop on what happened at NPR, whether he had something in the works before he signed off on morning edition, what his less than golden-throated replacement is really like there. Then there will be no more talk of NPR, but only XM Satellite and how wonderful it is.

For the longest time, satellite radio only meant that guy with the long hair who likes to get his female guests to show their breasts, and I thought, "So not interested." If I want smut, I have the internet. If I want uninformed, excitable opinion, I can talk to myself. Drive time is rough going for either the libido or for getting riled up into a, I guess, ragey frame of mind. But then, on a road trip to Washington, as I was surfing about, I heard a familiar voice interview George McGovern. After that interview, there was another. Edwards was interviewing a man who wrote a book about the 31 days after Nixon resigned - when young Rumsfeld and Cheney were up and comers. I was floored. Who new. I am not much of a student of contemporary anything. Since then, I have heard Karen Armstrong, Mark Knopfler and Emmy Lou Harris, Allan Altman, Sara Bloomfield, and lots more who are always interesting. He is so good. Now my trial subscription is about to run and I have to figure out how this all works.

Ahhhh. I just researched it. Money. That's how it works.