The unheard comment

Today I was unusually motivated to call into one of my favorite radio programs (typing program makes me feel like my Grandma talking about her "soaps", love you G-ma!). Of course I speak of Radio West, a show of which I am an addictive listener. Trust me, if I could carry it in balloons I would. The topic today was about influential album cover art. I have come across a CD by the band Les Savy Fav. The cover has a picture of a man and woman nude in a garden surrounded by ravenous animals licking their lips and ferociously growling. The title of the CD was "Let's Be Friends." When I first saw it I couldn't help but chuckle at the cleverness. I wanted to share this cover with the lovable Doug Fabrizio and my happiness that Les Savy Fav had not gone with the trend of branding the band by using pictures of themselves but rather used cover art tot tell a story about what could be expected on the album.
So I called in. As I indexed the number into the phone I felt this rush usually reserved for opening theater performances or solo oboe performances. I was nervous and the adrenaline customarily contained was allowed to secrete. The phone rang and a woman anwered asking my first name. "Jeff," came out but not in my usual tone but that of a mid-pubescent boy. I was slightly embarrassed and emasculated. I wonder if this is how a eunuch feels post-op. She then asked where I was calling from. I took a deep shallow breath and wondered where I was calling from. I think I was in Lehi, I was driving, but opted to tell her where I was from for fear of someone assuming I actually had been bred in Lehi. "Alpine," I said in a more sustained tone. She then asked me what I had to say. I think those were her exact words though I might be post-traumatic. It was at this point I began to empathize with what George w. might feel every time he is asked to speak. I knew what I wanted to say but somehow my tongue was moving to the side to side when I wanted it to move up and down. In the end I think I spit something out about Les Savy Far. She seemed to be pacified by this statement and put me on hold until Doug would allow me to speak to him. I was left alone to drive, listen to the show on my phone, and recover. I was listening to some lady talk about the Beatles. I was wondering what are you doing you're just an ass-oicates degree holder from UVU. What could you possibly add? I was ruminating on this when I noticed that a woman was speaking to me. I slightly freaked out because I thought I was on the air but then I latched on to the familiarity of the voice. It was the producer asking me the name of the band again. I was like, "Les Savy Far, L-E-S S-A-V-Y F-A-R or maybe its F-A-I-R" She then said she was going to look it up on Amazon to include the cover art on their website. There was a pause and she said ,"Do you mean Les Savy Fav." And that was it, I was shamed. I imagined a 1992 Dan Qauyle ousting William Figueroa confidently saying "no the word Potato ends with E. Yep I'm so sorry it was an E." I apologized and shriveled along with my credibility. The next few minutes were a blur. As I drove Dan Qauyle's severed head appeared in front of me mouthing, "No I'm sorry its spelled with an E. You made a great effort...It's spelled with an E...an E...E..E, E, E!!" I arrived at my destination and sat for about 20 minutes listening to the guests discuss iconic cover art. Doug then said he was going to take a call and I felt nausea in my stomach. "We have Mike on the line.."
False alarm I then politley waited as they discussed emails and there own ideas about the influence of album art. Doug then ended the show and I was crushed. I wasn't going to be on the show because of a stupid R. Dan Quayle again came to me but he mouthed "R, R, R." The woman once again came to the phone and said she was sorry but they ran out of time. To which I replied, "O.K." I shut off the car engine and exited the car grabbed the bags of food I was delivering. Shutting the door I walked towards the building in blazing heat wearing a black catering smock holding heavy food in both hands.