UGLY TALK RADIO HAS STOLEN OUR RADIO

Where has my radio gone? It used to be a lively, comforting companion. Now it is scary, furiously angry, full of hateful rants. I can't turn it off fast enough. Where do these people come from? Are there really scores of listeners, who apparently have no business to keep them occupied, who like to hear the "host" mock the infirmities of people with serious diseases, or make fun of women's looks, or demean black quarterbacks? Yet that is all we get- the radio waves, which belong to all of us, are swamped with this kind of ugliness.

I can remember when things were different. I was once what is now quaintly called a "stay at home mom" and the radio was a bright spot in my life. I used to iron piles of laundry listening to such fun programs as Perry Mason, Stella Dallas. Our Gal Sunday (married to England's richest, most handsome lord) and that little gem "Vic and Sade". This was before television, if you can imagine that. The soap operas were followed by variety shows such as Arthur Godfrey. Does anyone remember the furor when Godfrey fired Julius LaRosa? It was fun, and an awful lot of laundry got done.

Then at night, there was the sweet innocence of the disk jockeys, who would play a record for your boyfriend "and this is our favorite song for Dale, from Ginny" You could lie in your bed at night and wait to see if "your song" would come on. Then, the whole family could listen to the serials like "The Shadow" and "I Love a Mystery" or Fibber McGee, or Jack Benny. Radio was fun then, not miserable and full of shouting "hosts". What happened?

You must remember this - radio waves are not to be purchased, or owned, by corporations just because they want them. The stations have the right to take them only if the FCC approves of the public service they are rendering. I doubt if any FCC Commissioner has ever spent a day listening to the hours of fury and namecalling that most stations sponsor. If they did, how could these stations keep their license?

Maybe the talk shows will self-destruct. Sometimes there are miracles. Until then, I mourn the stealing of my radio.