by Jocelyn Cross
It had been a meltdown of epic proportions. Even 21-year-old college junior Caitlyn Whitacre knew it. Ever since her first day at radio station KSA, the frustration had been building. Caitlyn was a broadcast journalism student at Central North East College in far northeast Texas and had taken a job as a radio host at KSA to gain some experience and build her resume as she finished her degree.
She had taken the job with the intent of moving on to a bigger station quickly. That had been 15 months ago and she was still stuck at tiny, little KSA working the early morning shift (or was it the very late night shift?) from 3am to 7 am. She hated the middle of the night commute, which was entirely too far, though mercifully uneventful at two in the morning. She hated the KSA format, mostly because she was not much of a Country Western fan, and she hated the intractability of her station manager who claimed that management shot down every one of her suggestions for changes. She hated that it seemed impossible to move on.
She was hating life in general at 5:30am when she had to recite the weather forecast and then closing commodity prices. It was the worst part of her broadcast day having to read those boring numbers. "Pork bellies?!" she had exclaimed into her microphone. "Really? Who the hell cares about such insignificant bullshit this early in the morning?" And, that, as they say, was the beginning of a five minute rant that covered everything from the insignificance of the lives of anyone that may be listening, through a dissertation on the banality of country music, the idiocy of western music, right on through to the futility of "this hick radio station in this jerk water town."
Then Caitlyn carted up the advertising spots and as she wondered who would pay for this time slot she suddenly realized the enormity of her error letting her mouth run off uncensored. But, as anyone who has been around them can attest, a young college student absolutely knows everything, so when Caitlyn went back live on air she said, "I apologize if anyone was listening to my outburst. But I seriously doubt anyone could possibly have been paying attention, so my apology will go in one ear and out the other. Now ... another golden oldie by Merle Haggard." Cuing up the music, she slumped in her chair in frustration.
The radio station was located right on the main street in Avery and from her chair Caitlyn could see out to the street and her interest was suddenly piqued. "I wonder who that tall drink of water might be," she mused before chastising herself for falling into the country western mode of thinking.
But she was also curious. An old Cadillac convertible had pulled into a parking spot on the desolate street right in front of the station and a tall, sinewy cowboy unfolded out of the vehicle to stand in the street.
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