America’s radio sweetheart

Today was pretty similar to yesterday, except the live radio show I went to see was The Sound of Young America, not The Prairie Home Companion. (Given host Jesse Thorn’s noted dislike of PHC, hinted at in a couple of polite jokes at its expense at the top of the show, I find this scheduling coincidence quite amusing.) And instead of meeting my parents for dinner beforehand, I wound up briefly visiting New York’s High Line Park — I still like it, but I think the thrill of its newness is gone — and managing not to have any dinner at all. In fact, I’m writing this while on the train ride home, and I’ve managed to have nothing to eat or drink for about four or five hours. (I passed on the free wine and beer available at the show.) That wasn’t at all my original plan, but when your plan is basically “wander downtown and see what happens,” sometimes that’s what happens.

The show itself was a lot of fun, with guests like Judah Frielander, Amy Sedaris, and John Hodgman, plus pretty much exactly the sort of audience you’d expect at a live public radio show featuring those people. And live comedy and music. There was going to be a meet-up after, at a nearby bar, but I have an MRI at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning. And I’ve had nothing to eat since an apple after lunch, so a beer or two might not be exactly the right thing for me now anyway.

If I had to pick, I’d say I probably enjoyed last night’s show a little more, even if that hurts Jesse Thorn’s feelings or loses me public radio indie cred with the heavily Brooklynite audience tonight. But it’s a narrow margin, and this time I was actually there, not watching on a movie screen.

Now I’m just actually glad to be going home, and have something to eat.

Update: Just after I’d written that — or, rather, written up to the “going home, and…” part — my train arrived at the station, where my father was waiting to pick me up. I had a left-over turkey burger and some mac’n’cheese, and now I’m going to get myself ready for bed. I don’t expect to have a lot to do tomorrow morning, since the MRI mostly entails lying very still and trying to concentrate on anything other than the fact that my arms are kind of pinched at my side*. But it is at the unconscionable hour of 7 a.m. on a Saturday.

* I did request an open MRI, but I also told the woman who made my appointment that it wasn’t a deal-breaker, not if I could get in sooner with a closed one. She said she understood, but she didn’t say if my appointment was either one or the other. I’m hoping it won’t matter, and they’ll have an open one available. Also that it reveals exactly what’s wrong, isn’t serious, outlines a plan of action, and gets me some relief. Oh, and is full of rainbows and magic beams and gumdrops, but I think that much goes without saying, right?