I’m a big fan of old-time radio. For that I blame my mother, who introduced me to the likes of Fibber McGee and Molly, Amos ‘n’ Andy, Jack Benny, Spike Jones, and others. So to trot into a section in the Treasury of Laughter called “Those Radio Wits,” I wandered into familiar territory. Like this:
And this:
And this:
And, of course, stuff like this:
I will never run out of things to listen to. Or to laugh at.
If I'm not an old-fashioned love song, goin' down in three-part harmony, then I'm being followed by a moon shadow, moon shadow, moon shadow.
And when I'm not doing that, I'm working as a technical writer at the Radioactive Waste Management Complex in Idaho, or I'm polishing "Considering How to Run," a novel, or working on its follow-up, "Their Hearts Run Cold." I like to be busy.
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