If you’re lucky and you’re a packrat (archivist to some of you), sometimes it’s possible to go time traveling and land somewhere you haven’t been before. Or maybe you have but you forgot – or maybe you never left and missed it the first time around.
It’s easy to pick L.A, or San Francisco or Boston or New York. But those little towns – rural America, the places people pass through on their way to someplace else. Those little towns where buying a used car or taking your clothes to the dry cleaner were familiar rituals because you knew the people who ran those places and most likely you lived next door to them.
It’s the radio that added color to the picture – gives it voice, takes you on a sonic excursion – sets your brain on autopilot and lets you bathe in its faded wonder…