So last night my friend Brian and I went to the This American Life live (okay, mildly tape-delayed on the west coast) event. But first…Acapulco’s. (Cuz we’re classy like that.)

And because we were on our third margarita are charming in social situations, we started talking to the girl sitting next to us. Turns out she was seeing the movie, too.

(By the way, there’s a decent chance we scared the bartender.)

“Did you hear the one about the kids stranded at the airport?”

“I did. I did hear that.”

“Did you hear the one where that family lived in a treehouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear the one about the babies who were switched at birth?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear the one about Bobby Dunbar?”

“I did not like the end of it.”

“OMG did you hear the Mike Daisey ones?”

“OMG yes!”

“Yes!”

“Did you hear the one with all the Santas?”

“I did.”

“Did you hear the one about the guy trapped in the well?” “The rest stop?” “The dude obsessed with Dark Shadows?” “The Erie Canal?” “The superpowers?” “The house on Loon Lake?” “Poultry Slam 2003?” “2004?” “2007?”

“I did not like the end of it.”

P.S. The show was fantastic – love love love.

P.P.S. Watch this.

I, on the other hand, am an un-good person. I got in a fight with the bread vendor at the Fullerton farmers market when he shortchanged my son five dollars. And I cheated in a recent Draw Something match with my friend Brian. (He is such a good artist and I didn’t want him to feel bad that I didn’t recognize what he drew. Which turned out to be Thor. And I’m too dumb to know what Thor looks like, even though Brian drew it awesome.)

The good-est person to ever live was Mister Rogers. (What? Jesus? Um…yeah, he was nice. But he wasn’t on television so…)

Today I watched the new documentary, Mister Rogers & Me, in which filmmaker Benjamin Wagner exposes the effect Mister Rogers had on, not only his life, but on the lives of all people. As expected, the documentary was completely perfect.

I don’t often give you guys homework. Well, sometimes I do, but it’s usually something stupid like – listen to old Ricky Gervais podcasts while getting a massage. Which is…weird.

This homework is neither weird nor stupid. I want you to watch Mister Rogers & Me.

Mister Rogers said, “There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.”

We no longer have the opportunity to meet Mister Rogers in person. But by watching this film, I believe we still have the chance for something of him to be left with us.

It has with me.

P.S. It’s $2.99 to rent on iTunes and $9.99 to buy.

P.P.S. If you’re totally busted out, send me an email. You may receive a gift in your iTunes account.

What really happened was that I watched Midnight in Paris, saw the play Picasso at the Lapin Agile, and watched a documentary about Ray and Charles Eames on Netflix.

And I got to thinking about how sometimes (rarely) there are groups of crazy talented people who come together in such a divine and energetic way that it makes the individuals even better than they would have been otherwise.

How does that happen? Is there like a centralized awesome beacon that attracts the other awesome people?

Gertrude Stein was at the center of so much awesomeness. And she was pretty awesome herself. Having all that awesomeness circulating around her, I think made her a better writer. Made Picasso a better painter, made Hemingway and Matisse better artists.

Which makes humanity a lot more awesomer.

You know what else is like that? The Tim Conway, Jr. Show.

Tim, Aron Bender, Jason Insalaco, Randy Wang, Angel Martinez. All individually talented people. But brought together in this symbiosis of amazingness – magical.

Confession: The recent departure of show producer Jason Insalaco and the upcoming departure of board op Randy Wang has me a little unnerved.

(Another confession: It’s possible I place too much importance on frivolous things.)

But as I look back over the many incarnations of the Tim Conway, Jr. Show, I realize Tim is the beacon.

It’s all going to be okay. More than okay. It’s going to be awesome.

(No pressure, Mystie.)

But I was thinking about other perfect radio show-activity pairings. This is what I came up with. Feel free to add yours.

Perfect radio show to listen to while…

Gardening – Leo Laporte

Working – Tim Conway, Jr.

Battling insomnia – Pretty Good Podcast (Sorry guys, Gina’s mom nailed it.)

Lying flat on your back trying to make your stomach as concave as possible – 5:00 hour of the Bill Handel show

Taking a bath – News Bender

P.S. The whole bathtub/radio pairing is probably the most controversial of them all. Most people will go for This American Life. And I can see that. It’s soothing, intriguing, comforting. But it’s too long for a bath. You’ll end up having to be like – Oh! The Starlee Kine story is starting. I’ll get out now and listen to the rest in bed. Crap! The Sarah Vowell feature started. OK, fine. I’ll just stay here until it’s over. Wait, what did David Rakoff just say? Ugh! Now I have to get up, dry off enough so that I don’t destroy my iPhone, tap Pause, rewind. It’s a lot of work.

P.P.S. I know it’s mostly dudes who read this, so you might not know about that concave stomach thing. It’s just what girls do in the morning to see how skinny they are that day. Which, in turn, determines whether or not they’ll have a good day.

P.P.P.S. Girls are a mess. You guys should just all be gay. I think it’s easier.

And for awhile I believed him. But recently I got to thinking…

1. Why is Bill Handel trying to depress me?

2. What does he know anyway? He TWEETS IN ALL CAPS ABOUT HAM SANDWICHES. And, as everyone knows, the only way to measure a man’s wisdom is by the quality of his tweets.

Also, there are so many wonderful and delightful things. And by wonderful and delightful things, I mean things full of wonder and delight.

For example:

1a. The Bullseye interview with documentary filmmakers, Benjamin and Christofer Wagner. I cried. And not just me, lots of people cried. Happy tears.

1b. The Benjamin and Christofer Wagner documentary, Mister Rogers and Me, about Mister Rogers and his affect on humanity. (Spolier alert: PROFOUND and IMPORTANT)

2. The Mental Illness Happy Hour. Okay, I didn’t say all wonderful and delightful things were jubilant. There can definitely be some heavy stuff in this podcast, but the underlying message of honesty and camaraderie is truly special.

3. The Pocket Casts app for iPhone and Android. Super easy access to every podcast you want? Yes, please. I haven’t synced my iPod once since I got this app.

4. LACMA hearts kids. You know how usually when you take your children to museums, there are a bunch of uptight old ladies giving you dirty looks? “Wouldn’t you rather take your unruly offspring somewhere else? Like a poison factory? Or a McDonalds’ playland? (Same diff.)” Yeah, that doesn’t happen at LACMA. Sure, they don’t want kids to lick the Warhols or throw Cheerios at the Kandinskys, but they totally foster a lifelong love of art and beauty.

And that is delightful.

P.S. Did you know that there are over 200 babies who are members of LACMA? It kinda makes me want to have another baby just so I can sign it up. So if anyone wants to help me out with that, let me know.

P.P.S. Just kidding.

P.P.P.S. Probably the fact that I referred to my non-existant, potential, future baby as “it” means I shouldn’t have one. Fair enough. I didn’t want one anyway. So there.

What? I was 16! I liked that Richard Mulligan. Didn’t all 16-year old girls? No?

In the summer of 1990, I learned an important lesson. I traveled to San Jose to visit my aunt, Jami. And every night after my baby cousin went to bed, Jami made me watch Twin Peaks with her.

(Here’s the weak part of this story. I don’t remember if Jami had videotaped it, or if ABC re-ran it in the summer. Don’t sharp shoot me. I’m really not trying to get all Mike Daisey on you. Promise. Besides, it’s for the greater good.)

So, anyway, we would sit there in the dark, watch Twin Peaks, and be scared. But before we went to sleep, Jami made me watch an episode of Mary Tyler Moore, as a buffer between scaredness and sleep. She told me, “Always watch something funny before you go to sleep, so you don’t have nightmares.”

It’s a lesson I still live by today.

Last weekend while my son was at Space Camp Spring Training, I had some free time. So I decided to put it to good use. And by good use, I mean that I watched every single episode of Luther practically back-to-back.

You guys, Luther is scary. I don’t care if Stringer Bell has an English accent. It doesn’t make the show any less frightening.

So I knew I would need a buffer between Luther and sleep. But I wasn’t in the mood for Mary or Rhoda or Mr. Grant or Murray or Georgette or Ted or Phyllis or Sue Ann or Bess. (Did I forget anyone?)

And besides, I hardly ever watch comedies anymore. I think it’s because I hate laughter.

So I listened to the Pretty Good Podcast. (Wait, I don’t mean to imply the PGP is anti-laughter-inducing. It’s just that, well, you know, it doesn’t require a lot of brain energy. Wait, I don’t really mean that either. Um, well, I don’t know. I’ll stop trying to explain it. You guys are smart. You get me.)

Conclusion: Idris Elba is hot and the PGP didn’t give me nightmares. You can take that to the bank.

Starting over…

So I have a lot of rules I’ve imposed on myself, mainly to do with avoiding slipping into a radical depression.

For example, I can’t go to a restaurant on Mother’s Day. Inevitably, you’ll see an elderly mother with freshly set curls, wearing her church clothes, sitting in that booth across from her deadbeat, dirty-jeans-wearing, greasy-hair-having middle-aged son. They’re just sitting there. Staring at each other. Like strangers.

Well, not exactly like strangers.

The mom is more like – I did not raise my boy to be a marginally employed, thrice-divorced, kinda gross and creepy man with a history of drug abuse.

And the dude is like – My mom has never understood me. I can’t work. I’m disabled. I slipped and fell at an amusement park 10 years ago. How am I supposed to work? Plus I’m busy every day. I have to walk around the city collecting aluminum cans and scrap metal from dumpsters. That ess pays good money. And another thing, my buddy Nugget is about to get me a job via his boss Snake.

And then, of course, the mom ends up paying for her own Mother’s Day lunch because the son swears he’s gonna pay her back on payday. Which, of course, never comes.

Umm…sorry about that.

What I really meant to tell you was that I made an important decision on Saturday night. I decided I can no longer allow KFI to cause or affect my level of depression.

I can’t really think of anything worse on a Saturday night than sitting around listening to Bryan Suits talk about war for three hours. But that’s what KFI insists on throwing at us.

I’m out. I can’t do it. So from now until KFI gets it together and moves Wayne Resnick back to his home time slot, KFI does not exist to me on Saturdays 7-10pm.

I’ll be out dancing at the Red Onion. Woooooooooooooooo!!!!!

(What? People don’t still go out dancing at the Red Onion? Hmpf.)

So basically every Friday I come home from work and take pictures of myself with my phone.

So basically every Friday I come home from work and think – Should I make plans to do something tonight?

And then I’m like – But Marc Germain claims there’s a show tonight. And it is more fun to listen live.

But then I remember – He cancels these shows all the time. There’s only like a 22% chance of there actually being a show anyway.

Then I’m all – Wait a minute. You’re not going out because there MIGHT be an INTERNET RADIO SHOW on?!?! On the Internet???

So then I commit to NOT staying home.

And I call all my friends friend and I’m like – Wooooo!!! Friday night!!! Let’s do something!!!

And my friends friend is all – Uh….yeah. I kinda have plans to go out with this hot dermatologist.

And I’m like – Oh yeah. Me too. Well, not a hot dermatologist. But yeah, I totally have plans. I’m gonna, you know…………listen to an Internet radio show.

woo.

friday night.

Pretty sure calling a dead woman a crack ho is cheap and tasteless and not terribly creative.

Also pretty sure calling a dead woman a crack ho is protected free speech.

But fine, whatever. Clear Channel can suspend whomever they want for whatever reason.

Two things though:

1. Radio stations being owned by major media conglomerates – bad idea. Because it’s not just KFI that gets to decide what’s best for its station and its talk show hosts. It’s Clear Channel that ultimately makes those decisions. And that seems bad. Look, I’m dumb. I can’t explain this point well. If you’re friends with Wayne Resnick or Barry from Omaha, you should talk to them. They’re smart. They’d be able to break it down.

2. KFI and the John and Ken Show only benefit from the suspension. John and Ken get an unexpected 10-day vacation. KFI gets to Tweet stuff like – JOHN AND KEN SUSPENDED with links to their website, which drives more page views and more revenue.

So in conclusion, this whole thing is over-hyped, totally phony, and pretty lame.

#crackhosunite

P.S. Like Rob Marinko, sometimes I do my best work on Facebook.

And you believe it. Because in that moment, it’s true.

But then everyone gets jobs and new boyfriends and goes new places and has new experiences and the best friends you promised yourself to when you were 14 are slowly replaced by the 17 people passed out in your bed because they were too drunk to drive home last night.

And that’s okay. And normal.

You do still talk to your old best friends. Only now it’s like – OMG what have you been up to?! I haven’t heard from you in ages! How’s Brad? Oh, Brandon? I thought his name was Brad. Oh, this is a different guy? Got it.

It’s fun catching up. But it doesn’t have the same intimate importance as the times when you passed notes back and forth all day at school and then came home and talked to each other on the phone for hours until your moms yelled – Get OFF the phone! It’s time for dinner!

Recently, Jennifer Andrews announced she would be taking a step back from TBTL, moving from Seattle and pursuing some other opportunities, while still (of course) keeping in touch with the show and remaining part of the TBTL family.

And that’s okay. And normal.

I know we listeners should be happy for her. I am. Jen is brave and adventurous and admirable.

But I’m also a little sad. Because, even though we’re not in-real-life best friends, she and Luke and TBTL are an important part of my every day.

They’re the show I most recommend to others. They’re the show I point to as a nearly perfect example of how talk radio should be. They’re the show that speaks to me most, that I have the most in common with.

And while I know I will continue to enjoy TBTL as it evolves, I will always look back on its old incarnation with infinite fondness, affection and gratitude.

Best of luck, Jen. Forever.

RAWR!