Everyone pays sometime

I’ve been meeting with a good friend to tell stories, talk about writing, and remember the things I’d long forgotten within the influx of Dostoyevsky, descriptive statistics, and mass society theories clouding my cognitive capabilities over the past few months.

This morning, I remembered anew a series of events I, at one time, told myself I could never forget.  After ruminating on why I like old Derek Webb better than new Derek  Webb, I was reminded that one of the reasons this statement is so true is because I have yet to spend more than a few e-mail suggestions and shards of dignity for any of his albums.  And when it comes to free music, I believe I’m more than willing to sacrifice dignity for the sake of entertainment.

It makes me American.

This story begins with my “employment” as a summer inter at WAY-FM Nashville, or just WAYM to us.  They “hired” me on as the publicity department, which, by the end of my 10-week stent, consisted of me and another intern from Chicagoland.

At one point, the late-night show host (Wally) decided to use me as fodder for the comedy he was putting out to encourage teenage boys, and everyone else who happened to listen, to act as if they were, in fact, teenage boys.  Of course, this could only mean that the on-air sketch I was going to be used for would have something to do with dating.

Nothing could have been more true, as I found myself asking out one of Wally’s on-air interns.  Live.  Heard by thousands across the nation.

She said, “No,” and I think Wally was the only person caught off guard in the studio that night.  Only God knows why I would give up Tuesday-night RUF for that crap.

As it turned out, Betty (the intern) missed a sweet show that weekend, as I did actually have free tickets to Billy Currington at the Wild Horse Saloon.  I don’t care who you are, how long you’ve lived in Nashville, or how much of a country freak you claim to be, but free Billy Currington is always better than anything else you could be doing – including dating.

Regardless, after the weekend fun had worn off, I returned to work Monday and found a package from INO Records on my desk.  In addition to a well-versed sympathy note, it contained a number of albums from INO artists including, Phil Wickham, P.O.D., and, of course, Derek Webb’s She Must and Shall Go Free.

I learned a lot that summer.  RUF Belmont is the perfect Christian community especially when you spend weekday evenings playing Munchkin while the pastor’s kids beat each other up over Mario Kart Wii.  Christian radio is a lot more fun that its name implies especially when you can drive the WAY-FM detailed van to the Wolfgang Puck restaurant down the street (provided you’re on the insurance).  Even if you get turned down live on the air, you will always have enough dignity left to press on especially when record EVPs feel sorry for you.