NPR and Me

"Insist upon yourself. Be original." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

When I was 21, I had an internship working in a small independent bookstore called Annie Bloom's Books. Nestled in the heart of a small pocket of Portland known to locals as Multnomah Village, it was famous for its relaxed and inviting ambiance which was created by big purple puffy chairs that begged to be lounged on, Oscar Wilde the friendly resident store cat (who hated being called a he, since she had actually mothered several kittens), and its heady, intellectual, borderline literary genius staff. I was thrilled to be included in this group and simultaneously a little worried that I wasn't quite smart or hip enough. Mostly I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to work in this adorable bookstore that is much like the younger sister of the Portland cornerstone Powell's Books.

Fortunately I had erudite parents* who not only encouraged me to use ridiculous-sounding words like erudite, but also showed me the importance of reading for pleasure and also to expand my horizons and I think this helped me to (mostly) fit in with the bookstore staff. I could hold my own when discussing the classics (well, most of them anyway -- the ones I hadn't read I just pretended like I had and nodded and agreed during the conversations) and I eagerly used the generous store discount and lenient lending in-store policy to introduce myself to new authors and genres. The staff also religiously celebrated the month-long event in April called Turn off Your TV and Read a Book or something like that. I joined them one year and didn't find it too hard to do. Again, I have my parents to thank for that - as a child they insisted on limited television intake (I spent my alotted one hour a week helping Angela Lansbury solve crimes on Murder, She Wrote), so skipping TV for a month wasn't too much of a stretch.

I frequently worked the Saturday afternoon shift with a quirky, late 20-something guy who I thought was the coolest thing since Oprah Winfrey's book club. Matt* taught 3rd grade and divided his off time between working at the bookstore, writing poetry, and helping his wife care for their newborn son. He was an avid listener to NPR and I was so anxious to impress him that I started using my 45 minute commute to introduce myself to public radio so we could converse about world events, new films, interviews with Pullitzer Prize winners and all the other fascinating things that are shared on NPR. Unfortunately this effort lasted for about 20 minutes, as I found it practically lulled me to sleep. I remember sharing this with my older brother and sister and they both laughed at me and agreed neither of them knew anyone under the age of 25 that enjoyed NPR. I shrugged and figured when I was "grown-up" then I would get smarter and start listening then. They both then proceeded to give me the "just be yourself and don't be someone you're not just to impress somebody" speech that seems like a rite of passage for older siblings to give.

Fast forward 10+ years and I have since used my 45-60 minute commute to reintroduce myself to NPR and have quickly become a convert. In the past week, I have become more knowledgeable about the tensions between North and South Korea, learned about a "laughing epidemic" in Tanzania, and listened to an interview from a guy that is working on the sound effects for the new Jurassic Park movie. He has a neighbor that has such a unique voice he is able to use it for one of the dinosaur's growls or roars or yelps or whatever sound dinosaurs are supposed to make. I love these stories. They remind me to get out of my head and that there's a great big world out there.

Earlier today I found myself again trying to impress a boy. This one is my 10-year-old nephew and since I am 25 years older than Zach, I worry that I am not cool enough. I doubt he cares about how much I know now because of NPR or what books I have just read or my opinions of world events. I think he just cares that I care about him. That I know how to listen and that I can remember what it's like to be a kid and feel like the decisions that are being made for you don't make sense. Turns out he got a cell phone for his birthay yesterday and I was his first phone call. I listened to him talk about his siblings driving him crazy and how he wanted to play catcher this season in baseball and that he and I should watch the movie Rio soon and re-watch Despicable Me sometime even though we saw it in 3D in the theater a few years ago. He told me about bowling for his birthday party and how much he was looking forward to going to a Timbers soccer game and hoped to meet some of the players. I told him we would talk to his mom about planning another movie outing soon and that he could call or text me anytime he wants. I smiled as I hung up the phone. Turns out his mom and my older brother were right - there's no need to listen to NPR to be friends with the Matts and Zachs in the world. I just need to be me.


*Special thanks to my parents, Gary and Becky Nelson, for helping me become me by driving me to the library and assuring me it was perfectly normal for a 9 year old to read the dictionary.

*I have changed his name to protect myself. I would pass out from embarrassment if he ever knew that I had this intellectual crush on him.