bFM

Eight years ago I was living in New Zealand in a little pool house behind a large house in the posh Auckland suburb of Parnell. The big house that my little house was nestled behind was being renovated and as a result was missing most of it's walls and large portions of it's roof and I have to say the pool house wasn't all that much better.
I had a little table and two chairs, a mattress on the floor, a toaster, a hot-plate and a sink. I also had a little bathroom and just enough hot water for half a shower every morning.
Late at night I would climb up into the ruins of the big house and try to find the phone that the workmen had installed so I could sit in the dark and talk to my mom.
But there was one other item in that little pool house that made up for all the half showers and the lack-of-a-fridge. That balanced out the mosquitos breeding outside my front door and almost let me forget the time I had to dodge the bricks that were raining from the sky one morning when the workmen were taking down the chimney. That warmed my heart even when pedaling weakly home after crashing my bike during a short-cut through the Auckland domain and crushing all my groceries...
my radio.
Well, it wasn't so much the radio that was all that sublime, but the sounds that came out of it. It was all because of that little pool house with it's CD player deficit that I had discovered 95bfm.
I would listen to it all the time while I was home. It was turned it on when I got home and turned off again when I left, otherwise it was on all the time. I listened while I ate, while I read, while I slept. While I cleaned my bike and while I wrote letters home. bfm provided the soundtrack for the entire three months that I lived in that house.
After that, I moved in with a family that had a tv, and cable, and a CD player even. So I went back to listening to my pretentious indie-rock CD's and rarely turned on the radio.
Which brings us to a few nights ago and a conversation with the ever-blog-present mrs Isikawa. She mentioned that her work day had been infinitely improved by her discovery of internet radio. She now spends her days listening to punchy Australian radiosity that she claims makes the sky bluer and the sun sunnier. whatever. It's no bfm, that's all I'd like to say.
I know, because for the past 6 blissful hours, I've been listening to the radio genius that is 95bFM. Including weather, surf and traffic reports and such-not. I feel like I'm 19 again.