1) a chimney fire.
2) eight litres of pee in a seven litre bladder.
3) Weekend Morning with Stan Carew.
I'm the kind of person who needs seven hours of sleep per night. If I go to bed between 10 and 11p.m. then I inevitably wake up between 5 and 7 a.m. My morning ritual typically consists of turning the radio on when it's clear that sleep is no longer an option. It's always nice to start the day informed. It's important to know what railways are on fire, or how many people in Cole Harbour were stabbed overnight.
Weekend Morning is a CBC radio program that is broadcast out of Nova Scotia every Saturday and Sunday. It's basically the same as national programming except every song played features someone yodeling, someone fiddling, or a whinnying horse...often all three. This morning was no exception.
Weekend Morning is an odd show. If you were to ask me what kind of music they played, I might struggle to answer the question accurately. If you asked me who I thought their target audience was, then at least that would be an easy one. The deaf.
Of course I'm kidding. Weekend Morning is an immensely popular radio show, and by that I mean that the listening audience is comprised of more than just the co-hosts' families (fathers, wives, sons, foals). It usurps my blog in the hearts and minds of our nation. I weep.
I'll just take a moment now for inner reflection. Okay, done.
Wait! Not quite done. Om. Ommmm. Okay, I'm good.
So, why is this radio program so popular? For that matter, why do people still root for the Leafs? It's because the world is full of hopeful people. It's full of optimists. It's full of people looking for a pony in a pile of dung....and never has an analogy been more apropos than right now! Some time ago I made a pact with the devil (myself) that I would listen to Weekend Morning and whenever three songs in a row were played that I didn't like, I would get out of bed.
The show begins at 6 a.m. but the music doesn't typically start until after the news, weather and sports. In fact, the music begins around 6:08 a.m. I got out of bed at 6:19 a.m. this morning. At three minutes per song, with banter in between (hi ho, Duke, away)....well, you do the math.
What's the appeal of this show, really? It's a sonic yard sale so far as my ears can tell. Perhaps that's the appeal. This show caters to people who like to go weekend yard sailing in their land yachts. It offers both variety and surprise. It's general for the genre-less. It's the Ponderosa buffet of song, except instead of steak there's liver. Rest assured, there's no sneeze guard over the salad. As a listener, you're at the mercy of the management and of those who call in to request the most obscure songs ever recorded...the songs that no one else will air. Of course, I can always turn the radio off, or change the station.
So why do I tune in every weekend morning? Because, my dear readership of three, I am an eternal, infernal optimist. I know, some day, a song that I like will be played. Until then, the garden of my ears will be richly fertilized.
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