I went to private school, a mixed blessing, that no matter how you spin it, felt like being sent away. ( I really want to add here that I realize the sacrifices that it took to send me to SJMA, and it was an amazing opportunity. It was just a difficult situation being gay, and dealing with abandonment issues) In the oversized business class vehicle that my father would drive me back to my teenage angst in, was a radio. My father was a firm supporter of public TV and Radio. From the accursed radio would come those magic words “This is NPR, All things considered” They certainly were not considering that I did not want to be stuck in the car for 89 minutes listening to them, that is for sure. But as the love of tomato sandwiches grew in my adult years so did my appreciate of the Public Broadcast System. My father and I never really spoke in the car on those trips, he listened to the radio, and I listened to the building dread inside me. How much better would I know my father if he had turned the radio off or if I had made the effort to speak?