I spend a lot of time listening to the radio. I don’t say that matter-of-factly. It’s said with judgement and pretension. The same way I say “I don’t use a Kindle” or “I’m thinking of building a compost bin,” or “Fuck a Rav4.” But yeah, a lot of radio. It’s probably because I’ve spent far too much time without an ipod, in front of a computer, traveling in a car, or laying in bed too afraid or aware to stand and take the one breath, the one step that would lead me through another oddly unsatisfying day.
So I’m intimate with most of the voices on public radio. And one of the most identifiable and memorable has been David Rackoff, who passed away yesterday. I’ve learned people are going to leave you, your idols will kill themselves and those who you took for granted will be gone one day when you wake up and it will hurt a little bit.
Such is the story of David Rackoff. He was a great storyteller, a hilarious man and a comforting voice while driving across the country or staring at the ceiling.
I know it’s completely out of season, but this will always be one of my favorites: LHANKED
Listen, and be thankful you’ve been able to hear that voice.