Rambunctious Radio

On my way to visit the seamstress before class, I turned on the radio and found it on 97.1 FM. My dad had driven the Trailblazer earlier that day, which explains the absence of music in the car. He usually listens to sports talk radio. I've taken to this station, too. The show, called The Ticket, discusses not only Detroit sports, but it also focuses on daily chores, like long commutes and family matters. I had just tuned into the afternoon show, with hosts Karsch and Gator already deep in conversation about the Detroit Tigers and their twelve-game winning streak. Karsch made mention of the Tigers' head coach, Jim Leyland, and his very charged remarks to the media. To Leyland's surprise, many interviewers claimed that the Tiger's long string of victories came only in the defeat of sub-par teams. These claims prompted a furious response from Leyland.

Mischievous laughter echoed through the recording studio as Karsch fished out a copy of Leyland's statements. He eagerly informed his co-host that he planned to make a game out of the coach's rant. Before the show, Karsch explained, he had taken the liberty of removing every last trace of profanity from Leyland's press conference. He left those portions blank, and with a tinge of excitement in his voice, he asked Gator to join in his fun. "What do you have there?" asked Gator suspiciously. Karsch chuckled devilishly and told Gator that he had turned Leyland's responses into an ad-lib. "Will you help me with this?" Karsch implored of his co-host. "Sure, I'll give it a shot," Gator replied, his suspicion now morphing into anticipation.

Thoroughly pleased, as he made evident in his upbeat voice, Karsch laid out his instructions before Gator. "First, I need a noun." Puzzled, Gator debated a response for a moment. "Umm... sausage," he suggested cautiously, almost as if asking permission to use that word. Karsch scribbled down Gator's first choice and promptly asked for the next piece of the ad-lib. "Okay, now I need another noun." Gator struggled more with this word than with the first one. He needed a few seconds to think this one over. Spouting nouns and adjectives at random proved harder than he had anticipated. After another few seconds of silence, Gator produced his second noun. "Let's go with 'pipe.'" At this, Karsch couldn't help but to laugh. "Easy, now, Gator. I'm trying to make this thing appropriate to read. Your answers are getting a bit too suggestive for that to happen." Wise to his plan, Gator gained some resolve and answered Karsch's questions more quickly and with more thought. "Okay, give me a verb," Karsch insisted. I could hear the distinct sound of Gator's fingers running across the stubble on his chin. "Let's see, here. How about... jump?"

This steady line of questioning went on for several minutes. I had hoped that Karsch had nearly exhausted his supply of blank spaces. Loose stone crunched beneath my wheels, a clear indication that I had just turned off of the main road. I had only a few more minutes before I would reach the seamstress's house. Just when the glistening lake came into view on my right, Karsch said at last, "Okay, Gator, I need one last noun that's used three times." Gator replied confidently, "Spatula." After noting this final bit, Karsch leafed through the pages until he found the beginning of Leyland's speech. Hardly able to contain his laughter, Karsch giggled the first few sentences to his listeners. I giggled along with him, and Gator chuckled triumphantly at his work. Their playful teasing kept me occupied as I searched for the right address. At long last, I pulled into the seamstress's driveway. Just as I parked my car, Karsch concluded his ad-lib. "Cleveland was lantern before we had played them, but now you're saying they're spatula? So they're spatula now that we beat them. Go ahead and print that. That's spatula." I smiled with satisfaction to have heard the final product of Karsch and Gator's teamwork. With that smile, I grabbed my dress from the back seat and walked up to the door. As I waited for the seamstress to greet me, I remembered that I must fill the gas tank before I left for school. I had just filled the tank two days ago. "That's spatula," I grumbled to myself.