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Guilty pleasures


I admit it: I occasionally listen to Delilah.

When I'm driving somewhere at night, alone in my car, it can be comforting to hear a familiar voice and some sweet love songs. The show occasionally exceeds even my saccharine tolerance (tonight a caller said something like "[my seven-month old son] is my blessing, and my two-year-old daughter is my miracle"; I have no objection to feeling that way about one's children, certainly, but saying it aloud to a national radio audience seems going a bit far, and she said it in a way that set my teeth on edge) but much of the time, I like the songs. What can I say, I'm a sap.

While I'm admitting what I listen to on the radio, I may as well confess that I also listen to country stations sometimes. Here's a particularly embarrassing example: Brad Paisley's "P.S. This Is Austin" came on this afternoon, and I actually cried.

Usually when I'm traveling I find the local NPR station and listen to that while driving. Somehow didn't come across it in a couple quick scans through the dial today, though, and didn't care enough to go look it up.


Nothing wrong with listening to pretty music. Greg is an avid John Denver fan, and I actually went to school for a year to study musical theater-- I don't think it gets any worse than that. Think of how scary OUR cd collection is.

I can understand that - that song can have that affect. Heard it ages ago and just tracked it down - but it doesnt seem to exist on any album - no one knows where it came from - just who it came from!

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