Radio's fine

Years ago when I was much younger and Walkman was not yet out in the market (please don’t spend time figuring out how long ago was it) sleep became my problem. Those days, it was not pills that cured the condition, but music. Music from a pocket-sized AM/FM transistor radio lulled me to sleep. For all the comfort that I experienced, the radio was worth the numerous canisters of double A batteries I consumed, and unlike sleeping pills, the radio dosed me off without harmful side effects. Just when I learned to adjust and live with the hassles of insomnia, it disappeared. I slept soundly at night and never used the transistor again.

At present, I am playing tags with sleep again and I know the remedy. If it worked before, there is no way it will not work again. And I was right, all I need is music. Not those coming from high-tech MP3s because earplugs bother me, music from the old-fashioned radio. I may not find a classic pocket transistor like that my mother gave me but the boom box will do.

So now at my bedside, in the quiet of the night, while the rest of Los Angeles sleeps, there’s the box turned-on so low. I could barely decipher the lyrics of the song played, but enough for me to enjoy the melodies of familiar tunes. So soft, so calming, it takes me there – to precious sleep.

Radio’s fine.