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Transistor Radio Days Thursday, Mar. 03, 2011 - 4:48 a.m. John made an observation last night about Charlie Sheen. He says it's very rare in this emasculated modern society to see a man displaying the pure Id side of his psyche. I agree. My belief is that if he were in any other country on the planet, he'd be held for observation, imprisoned, or executed by now. (John then chimed in "Or he'd been running that country!...) If I had to pick somebody to personify what's the best and worst about America, warts and all, Charlie Sheen would be on the short list. Unfortunately, I also think there's a great big other shoe that has a high probability of dropping one of these days, and shame on us all for being so fascinated by the lurid possibilities. But I have to hand it to the guy for living his life the way he feels he should. --- My replacement stolen-by-the-bully radio got here yesterday. There was something so nice about holding the radio and switching it on. It's hard to explain what it meant to own a transistor radio. When I was seven, my folks got me one for Christmas that year, and I used it to pieces. I loved hearing popular songs and top ten countdowns and the news breaks that were presented by the DJ's sidekick, including lots of commentary. It was one of the first steps towards independent thinking for me, because it was a form of media that my grownups coould not oversee a hundred percent of the time. The last time I had this model of radio in my care, it was the last day of school before summer, and my bully was punching me hard on the arm, trying to make me release my grasp on the strap. But having the radio back, even if only symbolically, gives me a sense of satisfaction somehow, as if I've somehow managed to pants that bitch in front of the teachers. --- That's it. See you next time. ---
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