Connie Selleca must be Proud

Normally, I'm pretty content to be alone. Nights; or even weekends by myself, are savored with the pleasure of indulgence in things that are usually restricted by living with roomates. Jumping on the couch in my Mickey Mouse underwear, playing my unappreciated musical selections as loudly as I please, throwing myself into a sick frenzy of cleaning and straightening without interruption, and sleeping in complete, serene silence are all anticipated with an unnatural giddyness. Of course, I could make myself sound really cool and insist that I throw wild orgy-like parties when left alone. But it never goes that far.

My fascination with myself fades pretty quickly when driving long distances alone, however. Amusement in my antecdotes can only last so long....it's just not as funny when I remember that, "Oh. I was there the first time." I usually make a few calls on my cell phone until my ear goes numb....which doesn't take long. I also have a collection of mediocre CD's that I switch out on a consistent cycle. But that gets old after 3 or 4 hours. Inevitably, I resort to scanning local radio stations. Isn't it amazing that, no matter what part of the country you're traveling through, the only accessible stations from long stretches of major highway are country and 80's soft rock? (I won't deny it....I like to sing along with Huey Lewis and Gwenyth Paltrow to "Cruisin"....in fact, it's one of my favorite crappy songs to sing to.)

While driving out of state several nights ago, I had exhausted all of my typical sources of entertainment. Even the really bad music was too much to take after hour 7. In my desperate state, I happened across the John Tesh radio show. I don't know if any of you have ever listened to this fine piece of work, and if you have, I doubt you would admit it. (I wouldn't blame you, by the way.) If the clarification that John Tesh was the host of the show didn't clue me into the cheesiness I was about to endure, his reading of a fan's letter did the trick. The young, sad girl from Anytown, USA had written to express her thanks to Mr. Tesh and all the good work he does. Her life had been enriched by his "soothing voice" and his meaningful advice. I was happy for her. Really was. And good for Mr. Tesh! Don't we all wish that we could impact the young lives of America through the medium of radio? Too bad I've been cursed with a "froggy" voice (or so I've been told). Nobody would ever write a letter to me praising my soothing commentary. I was thinking through all of this and growing increasingly bitter about my lot in life when my inner voice was interrupted...

"Providing the Gift of Great Music and Intelligence" was the announced slogan that came from the dreamy lips of the Teshster. He spent the next 5 mintues explaining how and why his show literally spreads intelligence to its listeners. (or, just to me....I think I was the only one tuning in) The first illustration of this "intelligence" was an informative article on how to be polite while emailing. The tip that stood out the most was that you should always respond to the corny forwarded jokes that are sent to you. That way, the sender feels edified and appreciated for his/her effort to better your day.

Great advice, John. Thanks a bunch! I truly did feel more intelligent...suddenly....miraculously! I kept waiting for a mini-lecture on the history of electrical engineering or budgeting tips taken from the Gods of Greek mythology or how to escape from a burning building with only a banana peel and a hairdryer. But all I got was the email thing. Lonely singles and truck drivers across the South were surely smiling in unison....all feeling more confidant and more equipped in maintaining internet-based relationships. Me....I fought the urge to drive off the nearest bridge.