Saturday, August 26, 2006

The Adventures of a Station-Sitter

Here I am in the control room at KEYY!

Living at a radio station means rarely is there a dull moment. Case in point... I was staying here alone for several days while the Barsuhns took a vacation. It was a fairly uneventful week until this morning when I woke up at 6:12 to a frightening BEEP-beep-BEEP-beep. Too loud to be my alarm clock. It took me a moment to comprehend what was going on. This place has more alarms rigged up than a penitentiary: one for "dead air," another for the Emergency Alert System and Amber Alert; and then there's the motion sensors, and of course the fire alarm and the carbon monoxide alarm--even one signaling mail has been deposited in the box outside--although it hasn't been working lately. But the beeping I heard was none of these; it was the dreaded Intruder Alarm, set off when someone enters the building without disarming the security system. An unknown person was in the radio station and I alone was there to defend it. Of course I could've investigated, or at least called out to ask who was there. But those very logical options seemed like very illogical death-wishes at the moment. So...I did the less-than-heroic thing and stayed in my room with the door locked and tremulously dialed Chris on my cell phone. I woke him up. "The intruder alarm went off... I don't know who's here..." I tried to sound very ho-hum about it all but really I meant: "HELP! Save me from the axe murder standing outside my door!" and I think Chris read my mind. He hurried over from his home a few blocks away. I was more than ready to let him be the hero. As I waited, I contemplated how best to respond if the intruder were to break into my bedroom: stand and fight with my curling iron? Or fall at his feet and plead for mercy? Thankfully, I didn't have to decide. Turns out, the "intruder" was just the local pastor who comes once a week to record his messages that are later played on the air. He didn't know that the switch to disarm the security system had been moved and thus he was unable to prevent the hair-raising ordeal for me. What possessed him in the first place to record his sermon at the unearthly hour of 6:00 on a Saturday morning is beyond me. I am simply grateful for the following: locks on doors, cell phones, curling irons, and Reader's Digest-type everyday heroes (you're the best, Chris!).

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