This is Irritating Puyblic Radio, the Graffitti of the Air, once agin proving that the FCC's enforcement powers are as weak as a kitten on Valium.

As part of our disconcerting policy of bringing you the voice of anyone that we happen to have on hand at the time the tape rolls, we now present "The Queen of the Obvious"...

Don't we?

That is her, isn't it?

Oh? Ah? Yes. Good.

Ma'am? You may now begin.

Hello?

Is this mike on? It is? Oh, I guess I better talk then.

I'm so embarrassed. I don't know what I am doing here. Do I really have to read this? Oh. Okay.

Well, hello. I already said that. But, you knew that if you were really listening.

Y'know, its really difficult sitting here facing this thing,

not knowing if anyone is really listening. I'd feel like such a fool if I got home and called my friends and found out not a single one had listened. Should I have called them before the broadcast and alerted them?


Narr: We're taping this.


Queen: Oh, you mean I can listen back to it after I'm done and we can go back and do it again if I'm not happy with it?


Narr: Why do you keep asking me questions?


Queen: Well, if it's my show, then why can't I do what I wish?


Narr: Stick to the script or wing it, what do I care? Just do it, the tape is rolling.


Queen:
No, no, better not waste it. But what if, when this is broadcast, nobody listens to it? Or, better yet, what if everybody listens to it and hates it?

Can I do a retraction?

How can I make sure that everybody who heard it the first time and hated it will tune in and listen to the retraction? And how will I know what to retract? Can I have the show transcripted from the tape so I can give everybody who hated it a copy so they can blue-pencil the parts they didn't like so I won't make the mistake of retracting the part everybody liked and dismay them all twice?

Hello? Are you listening? You!


Narr: Look. Leave me alone. I'm reading.


Queen: I'm sitting over here, scared out of my hard-earned wits, pouring my heart out into an ugly, uncaring microphone and you are reading? What?


Narr: What?


Queen: What are you reading?


Narr: A book.


Queen: Don't get smart with me, young man. What kind of book are you reading?


Narr: Lesbian erotic poetry. It's for a course I'm taking at UT.


Queen: Oh, God! Help! They've put me in a tiny room with a pervert! Don't touch me, don't even breath the same air I'm breathing! Get out!


Narr: What are you on about?


Queen: You're one of THEM!


Narr: One of what?


Queen: A Lesbian!


Narr: Not hardly.


Queen: Or, you're learning how to be one!


Narr: Oh, shut up and go back to your prattling.


Queen: You promise you won't try to touch me?


Narr: Give me a Bible and I'll promise never to speak to you again.


Queen: Blasphemy!


Narr: Gesundheit!


Queen: A Jewish Lesbian, yet!


Narr: What are you talking about?


Queen: That was Yiddish!


Narr: That was German!


Queen: Same difference!


Narr: Is not!


Queen: Is so!


Narr: I can't believe I am doing this.


Queen: I can't believe you are, either. Does your mother know about you?


Narr: She's teaching the course.


Queen: What course?


Narr: The UT course I'm reading this book for.


Queen: A mother turning her son into a lesbian, who would have believed it? Does your father know?


Narr: Yes.


Queen: And he allows it?


Narr: Yes.


Queen: Oh, Then it must be okay. Father knows best.


Narr: You're a piece of work, aren't you?


Queen: What did you call me? Now he's insulting me. What kind of place is this, that a decent woman can't sit down and talk into this ugly, intimidating micro...


Narr: What do you have agains the microphone?


Queen: It's hideous. It looks like a fly eye. I get queasy just looking at it.


Narr: Okay. Look, I'll dig through this drawer over here and get you a sock for it.


Queen: A sock? Washed, I hope. I don't want a dirty one.


Narr: Watch. I'm pulling a sealed wrapper off of it. Happy?


Queen: It's red!


Narr: What's wrong with that?


Queen: Well, with that on there, it looks so, so, Gallic, you know, like something on a dog you're not supposed to look at.


Narr: Oh, poof. What color would you prefer? We have green, blue, and purple.


Queen: Oh, I don't know. Let me try them all.


Narr: Sure. Here you are.


Queen: I don't know. They all seem kind of plain.


Narr: Madam, what do you want? Argyll or Paisley? Here, here's a marker, you can draw something on one of them. Make it friendly to you, okay? I'm going back to my book.


Queen: Not while I'm in the room. You might get ideas.


Narr: Madam, the mere presence of you makes any idea scarce.


Queen: I don't know if I like that.


Narr: I don't know if I care. Just do your thing and leave me alone. I'll be over here in case the studio catches fire.


Queen: Oh? Is it in the habit of doing that?


Narr: No, but as you just proved, there is a first time for everything.


Queen: I never know when you're joking.


Narr: Neither do you. Just go about your business.


Queen:
Okay. Where was I? Is this mike still on? Of course it is. I'd just like to remind you folks out there or who will possibly be out there when this is

broadcast that if these words are being heard after I die, then I do not intend them to be regarded as my last words. I do not want to go down in history being known for what I've said here. This is an unusual circumstance for me, being in a strange place, talking to strangers and not knowing how it will be taken. If I could please each and every one of you, I would try to, but since I can't, I will just probably displease myself.

So I will just do the best that I can and hope you people out there will accept it in the spirit in which it is being given.
I've drawn a happy little cat face on the green mike sock and I tried to make it look good enough so that if anyone sees it, I won't be embarrassed but I probably have overestimated my worth as an artist.

I didn't get to finish the art class that I was taking at ACC because we had just finished the semester where you draw the naked man without looking at him and before the next semester where we would have gotten into silent lives, the starter fell out of my car as I was crossing a railroad tie and I couldn't afford to go to class.

Still, I did the best I could and that is all anybody can do if they don't want to loose their self-image, which is very important to a person because there are so many people who will disagree with you and tell you how to change to fit their image but their image isn't your's, not even their's.

I mean, I'll listen politely to anyone who has something to say who doesn't try to talk down to my intelligence, but I can rise above anything if given enough credence. I mean, people don't give you credit for having managed to survive without their help up to the moment that they start to give you advice. I wish folks would just keep their mouthes shut and wonder how I've managed to survive this far in silence.

Keep it to themselves. If they weren't so busy giving advice to take care of their own lives, then they'd be aware of how much better off they are that they aren't me or have to take care of me.

I mean, they just say their thing and walk away and come back later and wonder why I haven't changed to suit them. I mean, usually I don't have any way to keep track of what they said, so I can't remember it all, so why bother? I have enough trouble keeping track of what I'm doing that I'm not sure I should without trying to keep track of what everybody else thinks that I'm not sure I should try to follow without a lot of thought.

Being an adult is so difficult. Very few people know what it really means to be an adult but they keep trying to teach others how to be an adult by example. But an example is such a small thing. How can you catch the meaning in an example? You would have to spend days with someone, watching their every move and asking them why they did that.

That would be irritating to both parties concerned. Now, if you could follow them around with a camera, that might be interesting, then you could have them watch it later and comment on what they did.


Narr: Or call their lawyer.


Queen:
Oh, yes, they might want to put it on the air, mightn't they? What a good idea. I hadn't thought of that. Oh, yes, then millions of people could teach by more than an example. They could use their whole lives. Unless they had something to hide, in which case, we wouldn't have them explain their behavior until the police got a look at the tape.

I wouldn't want to invade anyone's privacy without a good reason. I always appreciate it when people who invade my privacy have a good reason. You know, like it's classified and I shouldn't worry about it because the government has my best interests at heart and I should trust them.

I pray for them, too, they have such hard lives, running around in unnatural fiber suits because they're too busy protecting this country from itself to take their suits to the cleaners. I've often wondered what weakness it is in my life that I never dedicated my career to doing deeds that other people like myself could respect. But I'm too caught up in being myself to bother wasting time respecting myself. Other people need my respect more than I do, because I haven't earned it. I mean, you do the best you can, but sometimes, that's not enough, so you have to trust someone who's best is more than enough so they have some to share with you, which is a very nice kind gesture. I so often find myself so thankful for the kindness of strangers, I don't know who to thank when I begin every day. First off, I'd have to thank my mother, and my high school drama coach and that nice man who sold me my first used car in Duluth, and the people down at the camera shop who taught me more than I could remember and last but certainly not least, I would like to thank my producers and my chiropractor for making me what I am today.


Narr: Times up!


Queen: Can't we just let it run and edit it later?


Narr: No. We have a clog-dancing team from Lubbock coming in to rehearse in five minutes. We gotta go.


Queen: Oh, I might stick around to watch that, if they don't mind.


Narr: Fine. Say good bye.


Queen: Good-bye. Was that good enough? Should I do it again?


Narr: It was fine. Go away.


Queen: Oh, okay. Bye. I'll just go over here and be quiet.


Narr: Yes. Try. This has been Irritating Public Radio, living up to it's name beyond it's wildest dreams. This little patch of nirvana in the middle of the airwaves will return at a later date, only accompanied by enough static that hopefully you will believe it is a Norteno station....