Irony is Not Lost
One year ago, an new station appeared on the KC radio scene. It was a fantastic day. For the first time in my Kansas City experience, there was a radio station dedicated solely to ESPN Radio. 24 hours every day of glorious national sports radio piped in from Bristol, Connecticut. I was thrilled, and listened to the radio station more than any other on the dial. 97.3 was my wonderland.
It was fun while it lasted.
Today I jumped in the car with Elli and flipped to 97.3, anticipating one of Colin Cowherd's rants on the BCS pairing. Lo and behold, no sports to be found on my FM dial. But wait. It gets worse.
What do you suppose they replaced my favorite station with? No, not country music. No, no. Not industrial metal, either. You guessed it. KLOVE Christian radio. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
For the record, I am not against music the glorifies God. Quite to the contrary. It's simply that the stuff that is played on "Christian Radio" does not tickle my eardrums. Just don't care for it. Most of it sounds canned and cheesy to me, and I resent that we insist on creating a Christian Music ghetto where we put artists in a box and sanctify them by applying a stamp of squeaky clean approval on them.
The whole situation is surreal. Sports sold out to the Christian Marketplace for the first time ever, and I'm crushed. Someone please rescue me from Bizzaro World.
Fair Dinkum
It was fun while it lasted.
Today I jumped in the car with Elli and flipped to 97.3, anticipating one of Colin Cowherd's rants on the BCS pairing. Lo and behold, no sports to be found on my FM dial. But wait. It gets worse.
What do you suppose they replaced my favorite station with? No, not country music. No, no. Not industrial metal, either. You guessed it. KLOVE Christian radio. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
For the record, I am not against music the glorifies God. Quite to the contrary. It's simply that the stuff that is played on "Christian Radio" does not tickle my eardrums. Just don't care for it. Most of it sounds canned and cheesy to me, and I resent that we insist on creating a Christian Music ghetto where we put artists in a box and sanctify them by applying a stamp of squeaky clean approval on them.
The whole situation is surreal. Sports sold out to the Christian Marketplace for the first time ever, and I'm crushed. Someone please rescue me from Bizzaro World.
Fair Dinkum