i love the cbc

I love the CBC. I was brought up to love the CBC. Growing up it was the only radio station that I really knew about. Turning on the radio meant listening to the CBC.

I’m not sure why my parents were like this. They were aware that there was a knob to change the station... but it never got changed, ever.

Normally this would turn into a hard luck story about my clumsy teen age years and how unfair and weird my parents were.

But I’m happy to have lived with a stead diet of interviews and news stories along with awkwardly produced documentaries and retarded stories about a guy in Westlock, Alberta who collects antique combines. It calms my erratic little brain. Background white noise in the apartment. Plus it has filled my head with all sorts of important knowledge and even more useless trivia.

They will broadcast almost anything. They are responsible for the Beachcombers and my favorite all time teevee show, Twitch City. They even bothered to broadcast some little things that I have written. Nothing extraordinary, but it is still nice to hear your name on the radio.

It certainly isn’t perfect and that is probably what makes it so great. It stumbles less than college radio, but unlike college radio, it keeps on going despite the mistakes. The fact that something can keep on going despite being run by entirely by committees of suits is impressive.

A friend and I constantly rail against the main morning host, Shelagh Rogers. For a while we had discussed how we could get on the show and mock her somehow during the interview. It could still happen.

The strange thing is as much as we hate her interview technique and her obnoxious laugh, neither of us considers turning the radio off or changing the station. He is an artist and I sit in front of my precious computer, so we both are within easy reach of the radio off button. We both listen to the whole show, and yell at the radio and later we sometimes meet and discuss how much we don’t like her.

I do feel a bit bad about this. I’m sure if I met her I would be humbled at how nice she really is. And if I could work for her, I probably would swallow my pride, and take the job.

Why would I put my friendship with my artist friend in jeopardy? Firstly, I want to join the workforce again. My EI holiday has gone on long enough. More importantly, I just want to work at the CBC.

If this post ends up on some lowly production assistant's mandatory internet search... pass it on up the line, would you?