My first solo radio show. My radio show.
I could hardly sleep last night. It was so silly.
Would lay there: eyes shut, heart open, mind running.
Woke up earlier than I do for anything.
He made me coffee. Biked with me to the station.
– Good luck. You’re going to do great.
– Thanks. I’m nervous.
– You’ll be fine.
– I’ll be fine. I’ll be great.
– Yeah. How’s the coffee?
The coffee was horrible. It had grounds in it and tasted like dirt. It might have been dirt.
– It’s good. Thank you so much.
– Can I have some?
– Oh, that’s horrible! I’ll go get you some more.
– No, it’s okay. I have to go in. I’ll talk to you later. Thank you.
Walked in, dark, sat down, set up, station manager…
– You ready?
– Okay, let’s go. You have to do a station ID… after this song. Then start your show.
– This song’s almost over! Wait, it’s over.
– …Eigh… eighty-nine point one…… KHOL….
Then there was about an eternity of silence before I finally got this song to play…
My first song. The first song. Fitting. Older. Feels like the song that I started everything with… so, why not this?
– Alright, there you go! I’ll be up front if you need anything. It’s all yours.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…
– Okay, thanks.
I put another song on.
He comes in… with good coffee.
– Hey, how’s it going?
– I don’t want to do this. Why did I want to do this? I’m so nervous. I don’t like this.
– You’re doing great.
I couldn’t believe how nervous I was… sweating, shaking, doubting, ringing in me.
And I wanted to take a picture. Wish I would have.
Remembered that [just recently] a lovely told me how she went through a time when she wanted to take a picture of herself anytime anything went wrong… when she was her saddest, maddest, most broken.
I thought that was so cool.
Living life and recognizing the truth of it all. Staring at it to it’s soul and owning it.
I wasn’t as nervous after remembering that. All I wanted to do then was take a picture. But, alas, no camera.
Okay, my show. My show.
I did it.
I messed up… mmmmmmm… maybe a hundred times. And it was great.
I stared my mistakes [my flaws] down ’til they were completely naked… then to the flesh, then to the bone. And I owned them.
The whole thing was a complete junk show… a scramble, if you will.
And that’s what I finally decided to call my show: The Morning Scramble with Rachel.
Every Tuesday morning 8am-10am.
On KHOL… in Jackson, Wyoming.
[thanks to those jackson amazings that tuned in and sent me loving texts or called in… it’s a simple thing… a silly show… but it meant a lot and is way, way exciting. thank you x10.]