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people.” His accent is back. “The strangest person I ever met was a sword-swallower. A guy with a coochie snorcher is nothing compared to a dude who puts sharp metal in his guts. Who’d want to do that?” His face tells me that he’s utterly, utterly serious. “You are you. That’s all there is to it.”
Nobody’s ever said it like that. Not my family, not even Paige. But John is right.
I am me.
It’s midnight. Between my collection and John’s, I’m set.
I’m so freaked I could puke.
“Welcome, ladies and germs, to Beautiful Music for Ugly Children. I’m—uh … ”
It’s all right, Gabe . Now or never . It’s Elvis, in my head. You are you, remember?
“ … Well, I’m Gabe, and this week’s theme is A sides and B sides. Here’s a requested A side—actually a one-hit wonder—for Mara’s listening pleasure: ‘In The Summertime’
by Mungo Jerry, right here on 90.3, community radio KZUK.”
There may be three people out there, but you want each one to cheer when you put on their favorite song. “In the Summertime” is a little too midday sunshine for the midnight hour, in my opinion, but it’s all about the listeners. And even bad music is good. Mostly.
The phone rings about halfway through the song.
I concentrate. My voice is stuffed. “KZUK, the Z that sucks.”
“You brought me my song! What about ‘You Know My Name’?”
“Coming up. It fits with the show, so I would have played it anyway.”
“You’re the best! Nobody ever plays my requests, not even when they’re easy.”
“I oblige loyal listeners.”
The smile in her voice is obvious. “Can I ask for another request?”
“Sure.”
“How about ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’ by the Ramones?”
“For that one I’ve got live recordings, studio recordings, and recordings by about ten other artists. Any preference?”
“Live. You are sooooo cool! Bye!”
I miss my cue again, because I’m hanging up, but “Let it Be” solemnly proceeds into the air, followed by “You Know My Name,” one of the coolest, funniest B sides ever. Then two more—Hank Williams and U2—and then I think about what John said. Tell a story with the music. It’s now or never.
When the song’s finished, I take a deep breath.
“So tell me, listeners … are you an A side or a B side? Are you a Top Forty hit, or an equally good yet potentially undiscovered gem?” I can’t believe I’m saying this. “Some of you might be right up there in the top ten, but if you’re listening to this show, I’d bet you’re more on the funky side.” Dorky. “Then again, I think all of us have our A and B sides, even though digital music has kind of wrecked that idea.”
Another deep breath.
“Personally, I like my B side, which is tough, because everybody else likes my A side. But I’m sticking to it.” I feel and hear my voice shake, but hopefully it’s not noticeable on the air. “And I played my B side for someone yesterday, and he was okay with it. No complaints, nothing. Can you imagine? Along the lines of loving on the B sides, here’s ‘Don’t Worry Baby,’ the B side of the hit single ‘I Get Around’ by the Beach Boys.”
It’s in the goofy CD player, so it stalls. When I almost put my finger through the on button, it finally obeys.
Then, when the Beach Boys are over, I risk some patter again. “I’m tired of being someone else’s idea of a hit record. How about you? I know this is a radical idea, but people should get to be who they want to be. If you’re going for the top of the charts, all right. A side all the way, go for it. But if I want to play my B side, I should get to play my B side. And only the cool kids listen to B sides.”
I am sure Paige is whooping it up about the coolness part. If she’s listening, that is.
“What about you—more A side or B side? Write it down somewhere, chalk it on the street. ‘I’m Ed, and I’m a B side!’ or ‘I’m Martha, and I’m an A side’! Maybe you haven’t
Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant