A lifetime ago, I was part of a group of young Turks (we called ourselves 'the Marconi Mafia'; no one else ever did, though) who took it upon themselves to inflict their version of radio on an unsuspecting military audience across Europe who had done nothing to deserve our undivided attention, and yet there we were.
We, or at least I, thought we were right (and righteous). With the benefit of over forty years of hindsight, it's entirely possible I was less than correct, not that you will ever get me to admit that now.
I've spent much of the three-plus decades since returning to the USA trying to find radio I could listen to without throwing up. It hasn't been easy. Where we live in Southeastern Connecticut, it's slim pickings, with talk radio on the AM and FM bands being the market leader. Some folks enjoy it; not me, not now, not ever.
I spend most of my time on Sirius or, as it's known now, Sirius XM, happy for the most part without ever being delirious. But as of this morning, I found 'human-curated radio,' no algorithms, no consultants, no paid blocks, just non-stop, "I wonder what they'll play next?"
It's not coincidental that it's called Radio Paradise.
Enjoy!
-bill kenny
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