I’ve been casually pestering my friend Hal Walter, telling him he should launch a podcast to support his magnum opus recounting his adventures with son Harrison as the two navigated the postsecondary labyrinth at Colorado Mountain College in Leadville.
Whether this was a good idea is open to debate. Because it got me to thinking about my own long-neglected sonic sideline, Radio Free Dogpatch.
I have a love-hate relationship with the goddamn thing. It’s kind of like an old bike in a garage full of them. It’s been gathering dust out there, and you can’t remember what it was that you liked about it, so you pull it down from its hook, air up the tires, and take it for a spin around the block.
And holy hell, it all comes rushing back to you. Nothing works like it should. It makes funny noises. And you can’t quite remember how to make the old dog hunt. Is the braking U.S. or Euro style? Is the indexing buggered or are these friction shifters? And what in sweet holy motherfuck is all that racket?
Finally you manage to herd the beast back into its slot in the garage, mop the fear-sweat from your forehead, and limp into the house (because of course the sonofabitch bit you somewhere).
And you think: “Well, that wasn’t so bad. Needs a little work, but it’s not like I have a bunch of other stuff that needs doing. …”
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Also short on gas stations, rest areas, and cute hitchhikers. Might as well unplug the Bluetooth and surrender to the yellow fangs of the first Radio Free Dogpatch of 2024.
• Technical notes: The reboot was recorded using gear that was already available in the Infernal Hound Sound studios: An Ethos mic from Earthworks Audio; Audio-Technica ATH-M50X headphones; my trusty Zoom H5 Handy Recorder; Apple’s GarageBand, a soupçon of Auphonic to sand off the rough edges, music from Zapsplat, and crickets from Freesound. All the other racket is courtesy of Your Humble Narrator.
Mad Blog Media 
Why do another podcast? Why not. It’s a good answer to those folks who think everything must have a purpose.
Well said, sir. Purpose? We ain’t got no purpose. We don’t need no purpose. I don’t have to show you any stinking purpose!
In the grand scheme of the universe, what, exactly, is our purpose other than to check for a pulse every day we wake up?
I like the two rules of the Spider Grandmother, passed by a Hopi student to William Least Heat Moon in “Blue Highways”:
Is that tee an actual thing or a clever photoshop? Either way, I approve.
It’s an actual thing, Steve. I think I got it at an Interbike back in the Before-Time. I also have one of the Livewrong black rubber bracelets that I wear as a conversation starter whenever I feel especially annoying.
Welcome back!
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-e&q=monty+python+I%27m+not+dead+yet#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:6422146b,vid:EfOW9QrLs0o,st:0
Thanks, Hurben. Good to hear from you. We should be OK as long as Eric Idle doesn’t give us a tap with the hammer. How are things in your corner of Paradise?
Good day Hurben. Getting ready to work on those sandal tan lines? Anywho, good to hear from you. I hope the offer to let us camp out in your back yard is still good.
O, indeed, Paddy me boyo. I’ve got my sleeping bag packed.
Should be plenty of room, our new coalition government is fucking things up so much that anyone with half a skill is heading to Australia.
I hear Canada’s building a Wall of their own. Just in case, y’know, the whole “democracy” thing down here goes all pear-shaped.
“No, thank you. I mean, look what they’ve done to their own place. It’d be worse than letting the Irish in.”
Oh crap! Now I realize it! You’re the voice I hear from the bottom of the can when I’ve finished my beer. No. That can’t be it. I don’t drink beer out of a can. I like drinking beer out of a svelte and shapely glass bottle and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let a hairy rascal like you into my bottle(s). But I do like your audio podcasts. It allows my eyes to work on other tasks while I listen along. Thank you!
Although I don’t chime in that often due to time constraints with caring for a thee that hath had the patience to care for thine many sol passes ago, I try to stumble in and keep my ears aflame with the words of an artful dodger. It is much better than much of the quick quip updates that are profuse in our times. The purpose exists so please keep it up if your interest is there.
Well, it could be worse … instead of having my voice in a can or a bottle, it could be in your head. Along with all its pals. Can’t say I recommend it.
Meanwhile, thanks for enjoying my feeble ramblings. I try to keep ’em short because the ASPCA is always on the lookout for cruelty to animals, even people.
Ah at long last! The dulcet vocal tones of the Master of Stories. About damn time…how could you abandon that recording gear all this time? Better be careful or that kind of neglect will get you in trouble with RIAA or the ASPCA. Maybe the UAW…he’ll I don’t know, I’m no good with acronyms but am glad to have a podcast bone thrown our way.
Well sir, as I said, I was razzing Hal about how he and Harrison should be doing Milli Vanilli dances on TikTok or at the very least a podcast when it struck me that I hadn’t pulled the tarp off my little noisemaker since last Easter.
I don’t mind telling you it took a few goes for me to remember how to get the sumbitch started and backed out of the garage without clipping the mailbox or a neighbor. So it’s a good thing Hal wasn’t pestering me for driving tips.
You could do a Firesign Theater skit if you could get a couple more crazed types to work with you. Whatever happened to Pelkey?
Comrade Pelkey is actually back in front of the mic at Wyoming Public Media as local host of NPR’s “Morning Edition.” Still got that fine radio voice going on too.
I miss doing the Live Update Guy thing. It wasn’t always easy, and it wasn’t always good, but man, it sure filled a niche in the Before-Time, before the Innertubes got serious.