Public Radio Redux

Every time I think I don't really want to see Avitar (yeah, I know, I'm the last American who hasn't seen this), I hear or read another great piece about James Cameron. There's just something about his determination and chutzpah that far surpasses what most filmmakers can pull off. Beyond his looming personality, I'm most intrigued by the 3D magic that Cameron has concocted for this film. Steroscopic 3D, what does that even mean? Special body suits with head rigs? His special effects are science fiction in and of themselves.

I'm not entirely sure why it took Teri Gross so long to be curious about Cameron's 3D prowess, but I imagine it has something to do with Cameron's busy schedule (still, a big get for the show!) Maybe this is just the push I need to go out and see the movie. It's probably all part of Cameron's master plan to rule the universe.

Any kid who's ever played king of the mountain has wondered, "What if we ruled the world?" No grown-ups, no rules, just chaos, candy, and cacophony. Picture that grand experiment scaled down to 34 minutes of audio.

More sound art than documentary, this beguiling piece by Alessandro Bosettirequires some aural re-orientation. The narrative thread isn't immediately apparent, and if I hadn't read the description by the fine folks at Third Coast, I might have turned off this sonic abstract expressionism too soon.

The key to understanding this remarkable piece is to let storytelling fall by the wayside and approach it like modern art. The piece alternates between surprising precociousness and total immaturity. It leaves you guessing, just like kids everywhere inevitably do.

(photo by Jose Maria Cuellar via Flickr/Creative Commons)

Honey bees are certainly useful (all that pollination brings us flowers each spring) and they're also kinda cute. Now, with the help of some creative mathematics, they've also proven to be some of the most efficient vehicles out there.

My radio hero Robert Krulwich has once again used his scientific magic to determine how far a bee could fly on one gallon of honey. Don't worry, they didn't pour a gallon of honey down some poor bee's throat a la foie gras. With little more than a bee-sized tether ball pole and some fancy math, they were able to figure out just how far a bee could fly without having to refuel.

It turns out, bees can fly pretty damn far on a gallon of honey, leaving the folks at VW quaking in their boots. The new L1 may be far more human-sized, but its 170 miles to the gallon looks pathetic next to the uber-efficient honeybee. Check out Neil Wagner's whimsical illustrations if you have any doubts.

Bees are great an all, but this story ignores one pressing question: how far can a jaguar go on 100 pounds of meat? Inquiring minds want to know, so get on it, Krulwich.

(photo by Paul Stein via Flickr/Creative Commons)

I've been meaning to write about this piece since I first heard it on All Things Considered over a month ago. That day I was in a mad rush and had just turned in to the grocery store parking lot when I found myself pulled in to this story about a mother, her son, and the photographer who documented his very brief life and passing. I had one of those "driveway moments," even though I didn't even have a driveway at the time. I sat, very still, and listened right up to the very end - to the inevitable "produced by Mary Beth Kirchner" credit.

I write "inevitable" because almost any time I hear a story that is of a sensitive nature and is produced really amazingly, with a feeling of intimacy and grace, without the sense that the producer is even present, nine times out of ten, it's produced by Mary Beth Kirchner. She is my radio hero. I have raved about her on Public Radio Redux before, back when I was really impacted by her documentary, A Year to Live, A Year to Die and also by her talk at the Third Coast conference in 2007. She's not only a sensitive and smart producer, but she's really really nice, too. I love it when that happens.

Have a listen and when you're done, learn more about Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, the non-profit highlighted in this story that, with their network of over 7,000 volunteer photographers, "provides families of babies who are stillborn or are at risk of dying as newborns with free professional portraits with their baby."

Photo used with permission from photographer Ashley Hutcheson (thank you!).

As I've mentioned, next week I'm leaving New Hampshire Public Radio to go back to freelancing. Once again I will declare, "I'll never work on a daily show." Famous last words, I know, but it's a good aspiration. As a reward and celebration for the hard work and constant grind of a daily show, I'm taking myself on a cross-country train trip. My route spans from Albany, NY to Chicago, to Madison, WI, to Minneapolis, to Seattle, to San Francisco, to LA, to Albuquerque with a final stop in Asheville, NC -- the place we're currently calling home. The idea is to get as far away from New Hampshire as physically possible and never return. Okay, that sounds a little dire, but it's a decent reason to do something out of the ordinary.

Clearly, I'm not the first person to do this. Woodie Guthrie and thousands (maybe millions?) of Americans have done this before. But I'm on a quest. On this trip I'm searching for my personality. Last month I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Before images of raving lunacy cloud your head, you should know that it's a very treatable biological condition. If I take my meds and get enough sleep, I'm a happy, highly-functioning human being. That being said, it hasn't been an easy diagnosis. With such dramatic highs and lows, sometimes on a daily basis, it's hard to know my true identity. Am I gregarious and outgoing or a depressed lug who hates talking to other people? As a journalist, this is a pretty important question.

We all know that warm, glowy feeling we get from making a donation to public radio. It feels like basking in a fluffy toasted marshmallow (er, something). But who knew it could lead to wedded bliss?

Shawn Millard donated $500 to WAMU in Washington to have the host read this simple message,"Today’s programs are made possible in part by Shawn Millard, who asks that his most wonderful girlfriend become his most wonderful wife."

She said yes, everybody clapped, and instant marshmallow-hood was achieved. Public radio love. Aww.

(photo by Samiksha K via Flick/Creative Commons)

Haaaaapy New Year! Yep, after all the beer drinking and horn blowing, it's time to make some resolutions. This year I will:

a) Blog more often. I kinda fell down on the job this year, so expect much more from Public Radio Redux in 2010

b) Have less stress in my life. This one will be tougher. Working on Word of Mouth has been amazing. I can't tell you how many fascinating things and amazing people I've encountered. But the daily deadlines are getting to me, and after much consideration (and a major health scare) I've decided to leave New Hampshire and go back to freelancing.

It's a big decision, especially in the uncertain world of radio. However, it's more important to be happy and healthy than to have a kick ass business card right?

All this to say, you'll be seeing much more of Public Radio Redux this year. Now that's worth a chorus of Auld Lang Syne.

Photo by sPaceCowGir via Flickr/Creative Commons

After 30 years, NPR veteran Carl Kasell won't be setting his alarm for 1 a.m. tomorrow. He gave his final newscast on Wednesday and will soon retreat to civilian life, where it's dark out when he goes to bed and morning doesn't happen just after midnight.

As someone who's woken up before sunrise for many a radio show (although none as early and prestigious as Morning Edition), I feel Carl's pain. I also thank and admire him for decades of service to public radio listeners. I hope he wakes up tomorrow at 10am, drinks a big mug of coffee, and reads the New York Times cover to cover.

Never fear - ol' Carl will still be hosting Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me, giving our Sundays the perfect mix of hilarious quips and lame dad jokes. We'll have to limp along weekday mornings, but it just wouldn't be the weekend without him.

(Photo of that sweet purple alarm clock I really, really want by H is for Home via Flickr/Creative Commons)

I'm sorry we've let this blog languish, but, like Jen, I'm ready to return to Public Radio Redux-ing! We hope you're still out there.

I wasn't going to go into why I've been absent, but then realized that I'd be missing an opportunity to spread the word about a subject that has become very important to me.

This summer I lost my father to suicide. He had been suffering from what we think was bipolar II, a disease that, from what I've come to understand from my reading, is pretty treatable with medication. If you know someone who is suffering from bipolar or depression, please please encourage them to seek help. There are tons of resources out there, among them the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, an organization which has provided a great deal of comfort and information to me and my sister in the immediate weeks following my dad's death.

A radio piece that has stayed with me from the first time I heard it years ago - well before I had a personal connection to suicide - is Jake Warga's Chasing Death: Understanding a Friend’s Suicide. Have a listen. And if you've been impacted by suicide, know that you're not alone.

Okay, so I love the National Day of Listening. Not only is it a great alternative to the 4a.m. insanity of mall and big box stores (where people literally kill for the best deals), but it's also a great chance to sit down and really talk to the people you love. An opportunity to unravel all those old family stories and learn something new about each other.

Tonight we had a big, warm, sparkling family Thanksgiving at my in-law's house. Joining us were some wonderful family friends who emigrated from Russia with just a few hundred dollars. They taught themselves English, started a very successful business, and raised a happy family here. They are smart, determined people who have such an amazingly humble view on life. Plus, they were witnesses to one of the biggest shifts in power of the 20th century.

I'm so glad Thanksgiving gives us all a chance to ask questions and truly listen to each other. What will you be talking about this weekend?