If you spend any time with me at all, you'll know I'm a talker.
I even talk in my sleep, although I have only my Sweetie's word on that.
I speak for a living, working at various radio stations over the past 20+ years since I graduated journalism school.
In the seven years since I started hosting the morning show and the morning news at our little station in Wasaga Beach, I have done thousands of breaks, thousands of newscasts and done thousands of interviews.
Even though my job is to inform and entertain out loud, and we literally bank on the fact that people are listening in, I sometimes wonder. Is there anyone out there? Are they paying attention, and if they're paying attention, am I informing or entertaining them? Even 20 years later, I remain surprised when someone says they've heard something I've told them, or tells me that I made them laugh.
Several years ago, I was flabbergasted when a woman I know from childhood told me I had saved her life one snowy night as she crept her way down Airport Road in a terrible snowstorm. I was working the night shift at a station in Toronto at the time, and she says she was calmed by hearing the voice of someone she knew personally, coming out of her car radio.
There have been times when what I've said has gotten me in trouble, too. I find most people who are upset calm down a lot when they get the chance to explain why they're angry. That said, I have never and will never apologize to anyone who calls me names or otherwise abuses me or anyone I work with.
Today, I was the beneficiary of simply being out there, on the air.
Last week, I made mention of a networking meeting in Wasaga Beach that was being held at the candy store at the main end. Offhandedly, I said, "Hey, if anyone is going, could you pick me up some Thrills?" You remember Thrills, don't you? It's chewing gum, purple and the worst tasting stuff you can imagine. It's lavender flavoured. Yup, it tastes like soap.
Sure enough, this morning, Trudie from the Wasaga Beach Chamber of Commerce dropped by the station, carrying two packs of the horrible gum. I love it, and I love the reminder that usually, somewhere, someone really is listening.