I'm Listening

No syndicated radio programming makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a dull object more that Delilah on the radio. In my mid-drive music crisis, I found a station that was playing music, as opposed to those playing static because the area between Indy and the Jesus Town is radio signal abyss. But to my dismay, as soon as the song ended, I heard the voice and groaned out loud.

For those not familiar, Delilah is an "easy listening", call in DJ who receives calls from the lovelorn or the so in love I can't see straight and then plays a song for them. My sister used to listen to it when confined to her dorm at the convent, ergo Bible College, because she wasn't allowed to have anyone over to visit after 9, and no one of the male sex in her room ever. At which point, the Jesus Town had no station that would play such emotionally charged radio, and for once in my life I was thankful I lived there.

A typical call goes something like this:
(not an actual coversation but embellished for effect, in case you needed to be told that and are by chance some obsessed fan currently wearing his "I love Delilah" t-shirt and are hell bent on defending her honor on a blog that nobody reads)

Caller: Hello, I'm a long time listener but first time caller. I was hoping you could play a song for me and my fiance.
Delilah: That's great, how long have you been engaged.
Caller: Oh, about 4 years. We're getting married when he gets paroled.
Delilah: So you're fiance is in prison?
Caller: Yeah, we actually met there. I attended his parole hearing. He's in jail for killing my boyfriend, but he didn't do it on purpose. It was all a mistake. See, my Larry, was trying to make hisself some sammiches, and the only knife he had was his hunting knife. And it was dirty, so he was trying to clean it off on Joe's shirt. That's my dead boyfriend. Only Joe moved when Larry went to clean it, and the knife slipped. And Joe kept jumping and before they knew what happened, the knife had slipped 42 times and Joe was dead.
Delilah: Well that sounds terrible. Sometimes, no matter how much we try, people don't want to understand that there can be perfectly good explanations for accidents. It's much easier just to point the finger.
Caller: Yeah, but he's up for parole again in 3 years so we'll get married then.
Delilah: You sound like someone very much in love. I'm sure with your love and support the physical bars between you will disappear and you'll be joined together for eternity. I know just the song for you.

And then she proceeds to play a song called "Prisoner of Love" or "I'm chained to your heart" or otherwise cheesily titled song mentioning prison and jail. Makes me want to never press the AM/FM button again.