"Looking for the right kind of live free or die..."

"Switching it over to AM
Searching for a truer sound
Can't recall the call letters
Steel guitar and settle down
Catching an all-night station somewhere in Louisiana
It sounds like 1963, but for now it sounds like heaven"
-Son Volt

I listened to the Son Volt album Trace about 5 times during my Missouri sojourn. They're from Saint Louis, so I thought it appropriate. Saturday was the best travel day, through Southern Oklahoma (which kindly reminds travelers about once every twenty miles, "DO NOT DRIVE INTO SMOKE") and the entire north-south length of Texas. By "best" I mean I was able to find the best radio stations, since the scenery itself is kind of drab.

Seriously. When I left Tulsa, there were three Big Twelve football games going on. Somehow Tulsa is placed just so perfectly that I was able to get the radio feed for all six teams that happened to be playing at that time (Kansas, Nebraska, Baylor, Oklahoma, Texas Tech, Kansas State). I liked the Kansas station the best, because a) they didn't have Southern accents and b) it wasn't the flagship station I was hearing but rather an obscure country station from Pittsburg, Kansas and advertised many things from the Pittsburg area that would normally have little interest to me. Like furniture and jewelry, Pittsburg style. Somehow, though, I was fascinated by all of it.

But this happened at noon. Selecting a radio station at noon is a straightforward affair: you hit seek and you have a very strong signal for a decent amount of stations, especially in a city.

At night, though, it becomes mysterious. One can pick up strange radio stations playing strange things from literally any part of the Western Hemisphere. Most of the stations you want to listen to don't come in very strongly so you'll hear two or three voices talking at the same time, unintelligibly, over music. You'll hear Spanish and French or sometimes, at least in Houston, nebulous Asian languages. You'll hear Coast to Coast AM. Coming from millions of different cities.

The light lingers for a bit longer in Texas. It's a pale blue in October, and it stays lit for a pretty long time until at some point everything clicks and it's pitch black. Sometimes there will be an Exxon on the side of the road giving some light, but usually it's just you, the road, and the lights from other cars behind you, which can be deceiving in the mirror.

I found myself radio-hopping from Dallas to Houston. The Longhorns game, to which I had been intently listening (did I mention how I think college football is second only to baseball in "best sport to listen to on the radio"? No? Well, I did now...) had ended and the sky was that pale blue and I tried listening to music but nothing seemed appropriate. So I attempted to find various sporting events, maybe a Rockets game or a Houton Cougers game. No cigar. No Houston stations to be found, actually. All were garbled with static and faint hints of music.

Somehow, though, I managed to hear this: "...and you're listening to the voice of the Chicago Blackhawks, WGN Radio 720!" Fuckin' hell, that's far. They were playing the Red Wings. I listened until it faded, and then found some Cajun guy talking about LSU football, a Colorado Buffs game, Notre Dame, Grande Ole Opry radio, a Spanish soccer game, and what I think was a Canadiens game in French. And a long infomercial for this hot tea made from cocoa that's supposed to be the best drink ever.

It almost makes me want to never listen to music in the car again.

(PS, I got and took the Missouri job, I'll be moving in about three weeks...)