Scene: Hoppy’s in East Sac. Two guys, watching the ballgame, discussing the tip.
“I just do what my mom always said, and double the sale tax,” says Guy No. 1. Guy No. 2 nods, and Guy No. 1 adds, “Then, I adjust the amount upward according on the rackage on the waitress.”
At the table next, dining on burgers and kettle chips, I shoot my brother a dirty look. He has a knowing smirk on his face.
“What did I do?” he protests.
I admit it: I’m an NPR junkie. Not only do I listen to KXPR to and from work, but I also download the NPR podcasts so I can listen to the stories I missed.
And yes, I donate every year.
Like any good Catholic girl (Sacred Heart, St. Francis), I am driven by nothing so much as a sense of responsibility seasoned with more than a little bit of guilt. Which is why when the begathon begins, I pay up. I don’t even ask for the free year’s subscription to Target Demographic magazine that’s offered if I pay with my platinum Amex card.
“Use it all for the station,” I say magnanimously, turning down the Capital Public Radio commute cup or umbrella as if my $120 annual toss-in were on a level with donations of the late Joan Kroc.
Of course, I’m not in Kroc’s class, but I would gladly double the pledge if only I never again had to hear Donna Apidone, usually the smooth-voiced professional, chirping like a big-haired QVC pitch girl during this week’s run of the “shortened pledge drives” that seems to go on longer than the career of Kings coach Rick Adelma — uh … well, a long time, anyway.
Continue reading “High-pitched whine”