My Dad has been listening to Tom and Ray Magliozzi and their Car Talk radio show on NPR for as long as I can remember. When I lived at home I'd wake up on Saturday mornings to their Boston r's and a's rolling out of the speakers in my Dad's office. In recent years my visits to Cherry Valley have been highlighted by Saturday morning trips to the dump and listening along to them. (What, you don't think a visit to the town dump can be a highlight?)
But Tom and Ray have hung up their mics. As of a few weeks ago they are no longer recording new shows. Instead, NPR is airing shows and calls collected from the past two decades. The news stings, and it feels like the end of an era.
It always amazes me that the things that feel like home can be carried along with us. That home doesn't have to be just one place. This morning I went to the computer to log on to internet radio, a strange but necessary thing in an apartment with no radio signal and, pre-recorded or not, I listened to the guys. My Dad arrived in Mexico a few days ago, finishing his annual migration south of the border (like geese, but in a Volvo). He's 2,544 miles away, but with Tom and Ray's voices as the backdrop to a Saturday morning, he feels close. And it feels like home.