XM’ing It Home

Well, if I didn’t like my XM radio before, I dearly adore it now.

Perhaps males will have more affinity for XM than females … there’s nothing like having 15 rock stations to choose from and flipping if you don’t like the song. A Jet song that’s not “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”? FLIP! Warren Zevon? FLIP! [Yes, he’s dead, but he’s been dead long enough for me to say that I don’t appreciate his music.] Springsteen? STOP!

It’s not quite to the level of flippage that I’d perform if, say, I had NFL Sunday Ticket, but it’s still a lot of flippage. I spent the first two-thirds of the trip flipping from ESPN Radio to music during their commercial breaks. [Having done so, I can accurately say that the actual announcing crew of ESPN Radio only works thirty minutes inside an hour. The production people are humping it the whole time, but the on-air folks have an easy job.] Every time SportsCenter hit—really, what’s going to happen on a Sunday afternoon in February that’ll really matter to me, someone who only casually follows the NBA and college hoops?—it was off to go find music.

Anyhow, it made the drive through the Pine Belt of southeastern Mississippi and the northern fringes of the Black Belt of Alabama go quite quickly. I hag the same anxiety to be-there-already that I always get when I hit the 300th mile of I-65 [read: less than an hour until I’ll be home], but the first four hours of the trip fairly well flew. If I hadn’t needed gas, I would’ve never stopped.

Of course, my legs are now quite leaden, and I shall soon be napping.


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