The rain is hammering the windows, the fire’s going, and my voice is hanging on by a thread—perfect conditions to tell a story about why radio still matters when you feel crummy. I open with a short check‑in from the couch, then take you straight into the sonic time machine: the 1970s News Blimp, that wild, witty, and perfectly stitched blend of narration, sound bites, and songs that matched the moment. Hearing a classic “end of the world” segment again—equal parts science and satire—rekindles the spark that shaped how I build shows today: go thematic, score the topic, and let music carry the meaning.

From there, we map that influence onto modern craft. I talk through why a playlist with purpose works better than a stack of hits: songs become chapters, jokes turn data into memory, and a smart clip can teach faster than a lecture. You’ll hear how free‑form FM, deep cuts, and FCC‑era constraints sparked a generation of creative producers who used humor and hooks to make facts stick. It’s media history with a pulse, and a case study in storytelling any podcaster or radio fan can use.

Then we pivot to the villain of the night: the common cold. I walk through symptoms, timelines, and the stubborn truth that a virus doesn’t care about airtime. To break the fog, we weave in comedy about office germs and a handful of gloriously retro cold‑medicine ads, the kind that promise atom‑traced relief and time‑released serenity. Some myths get poked, some advice still holds, and all of it reminds us that tone is everything when you’re trying to help people feel better. We close with a few musical nods—because when your head is stuffed and your patience is thin, a good song can be the best medicine you can actually take.

If this blend of nostalgia, craft, and sick‑day honesty hits home, tap follow, share it with a friend who loves old‑school radio, and leave a quick review. Your notes help me keep the lights on, the fire warm, and the playlists tuned just right.

A rainy Northern California morning sets the scene for a fast-moving journey through history, sport, music, and food lore—proof that one small idea can spark a chain of discovery. We start with storms, travel disruptions, and the practical realities of wind advisories before turning to the surprise heartbeat of the day: Presidents Day and the long arc of George Washington’s legacy. From there, the thread snaps to a century-old mystery—was the Baby Ruth bar named for Ruth Cleveland or a clever dodge to avoid paying Babe Ruth? We unpack the legal chess, the parachute candy drops that stunned cities, and the glowing sign near Wrigley Field that teased a truth the company wouldn’t say out loud.

The “Ruth” motif keeps running. A 16-year-old phenom, Sam Ruth, clocks a blistering 3:48.88 indoor mile, vaulting into the record books and reminding us how names echo across time. Then the dots reach the stage lights: Ruth Underwood’s leap from conservatory precision to Frank Zappa’s wild, uncategorizable genius. Her story captures the thrill of leaving safe lanes for a fearless sound where xylophones sprint, harmonies collide, and labels fall away. It’s a salute to the artists who know the rules and choose to build new ones.

“Underwood” turns one more corner into the pantry. We trace Underwood Deviled Ham, the oldest food trademark in the United States, and explore how “deviled” became culinary shorthand for bold spice. That history lands right on the plate with deviled eggs—paprika-dusted proof that everyday food can carry centuries of language, memory, and family ritual. By the time the Grateful Dead’s Friend of the Devil plays us out, the map is clear: weather alerts, Washington, candy bar folklore, track records, Zappa brilliance, and the quiet power of a shared snack all live on the same line when curiosity leads.

Join us for a lively, link-by-link ride that blends storytelling with sharp facts, from FAA delays to trademark drama, from stadium legends to kitchen classics. If you enjoyed the journey, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a quick review—what dot would you add to the chain?