I told a friend of mine that I wake up every morning to the local KQED and NPR station, because I can’t stand morning DJs.  She said, “I’d never get out of bed if I woke up to NPR.  It’s too soothing.”

Well, it starts off that way.  The low, mellifluous tones of NPR tickles my ear and tugs at my brain.  I am not close to waking up.  But then, the meaning behind these tones begins to register:

“Hamas and Islamic Jihad are feeling the increased military pressure and have begun working together.”
“The Environmental Protection Agency is easing the regulations on businesses who wish to upgrade their equipment.”
“Charles Taylor’s Revolutionary United Front was known for hacking off the limbs of civilians.”

I’m awake.  I’m bolt upright.  I’m off to the shower.  And I’m carrying a baseball bat with me for protection.

In short, NPR will only fail to wake me up when there’s world peace.  And when that happens, who will be listening to the radio anyway?  We’ll all be at a humongous block party with dancing, dunk tanks, and face painting.  Oh, and we’ll all be naked.