Three days after first tuning-in I realized I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I frantically called Steve and left this message in a loud, deliberate voice:

“I am totally f*@#ing hooked on our stream…TOTALLY!…”

I was referring to the Beta audio stream here on Vermont Mornings. Not the FM broadcast but the Sounds of Vermont link on the upper left. I’d been riding the buzz for days; cranking out the benign, meaningless paper work and administrative duties of life while rolling hard on a thousand different forms of music that came through my computer.

“I mean, it’s awesome!” I bellowed into his Blackberry on the other end. “It’s a…it’s a…streamsicle…!”

It’s easy to get excited by something like this. That’s why I waited until I was sure. I was being patient. But then this morning I heard this sequence:

First a Prince tune that may not have been Prince tune…but if it wasn’t, it should be.

Next was a driving Middle Eastern instrumental – not a traditional piece but one built on a western groove. Very funky.

Then a wonderful swing number that sounded like it came wafting out the door of a New York City jazz club on a warm summer night.

…And this kind of thing went on for days…I could not turn it off. Each selection was new and more beautiful than the next…or maybe they just seemed more beautiful than the next because of their placement. I couldn’t really tell. But like any good mind-altering experience I didn’t really care about the how…just the now.

Steve hadn’t picked-up when I called…usually that means just two possibilities. One, he’s bound, gagged and being held prisoner by old adversaries in a back alley in Morocco …or he’s at a radio broadcasting convention.

Turns out it was the radio people this time.

I felt for the man. There he was, forced to mingle in a big room packed floor-to-ceiling with many of the same people who have worked so tirelessly over the years to help ruin what was once a great medium.

Trust me, I’ve been there. Broadcasting today is the world according to salesmen egged on by a mind-numbing stream of clichés, catch phrases and the all-powerful God of “Imaging.”

I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, or that salesmen are bad. They are not. We need them and there are many people who like broadcast radio and what it brings to them.

I, for example, always appreciated the paycheck it gave me every two-weeks. But I grew up at the end of radio’s gilded age.

Back then you could still get a DJ gig if you just had a cool enough record collection. And you could always tell who those guys were. They were not smooth, perfect talkers, but real people with real imperfections and a real love of music.

But no more. Even so-called open or “free” formats seem contrived by some executive trying to reach a young, hip, cynical demographic. No one just takes their record library and throws it on the air anymore. That’s taking a chance and modern radio does not take chances. There’s just too much fear of failure and failure is not a good way to maximize shareholder value.

But then comes Steve, who picks songs like Sam Rothstein picks winners. The Beta Streamsicle is his baby and IT WORKS.

As I write this, a polka/klezmer/cocktail-music thing is playing …in a foreign language that may be French…or Yiddish. I can’t tell. There’s definitely a darkness there…a sadness…and cloudy sky…but through it all I can still hear the bubble machine pumping away at full power in the background. It’s so powerful I can almost see the ghost of Lawrence Welk nodding approval from behind my iTunes player. And that’s just one song.

It’s followed by a version of “I’ve Grown Accustomed To His Face” by…by…is it Lena Horne? Or Claire Daly? It certainly wasn’t Britney Spears. I know, because I’ve seen her videos and her movie – the one about the innocent small town girl who gets trapped in a steamy love triangle with rippled pool boy named Vocal Harmonizer and a lonely, middle-aged steak-knife salesman named Auto-Tune.

I conclude that it’s probably Lena Horne. She sounds great. Not surprising though. Lena Horne probably sounds great hailing a cab.

Anyway, give the Streamsicle a listen. But be warned: it’s NOT for everyone. In fact, most people I meet don’t like the same kind of things that I do. Nor would I expect them to, because I’m definitely a different kind of guy. But if you’re one of us, check it out. You’ll be glad you did.

TW