Posted on September 09, 2005 at 09:28 PM
This perfectly-paced and touching story reminds me how seldom we hear children's voices on the radio. How seldom we really listen to what children say, and think, and feel.
The piece is timely, on this fourth anniversary of September 11. It's been long enough to reflect on how we've changed. How our children have grown. It's been long enough to to be able to relive that morning through the innocent truth-telling of an insightful and articulate two-year-old.
The piece touches on the question of whether children should watch disturbing images on TV. Whether parents should tell their children "parental white lies" to shield them from disturbing reality.
This father doesn't want to tell his daughter those white lies, and he couldn't shield her from the images -- she watched them at a friend's house. So instead, he talks to his daughter. He asks her what she understands about what happened on Sept. 11. He listens to her. She helps him understand. It didn't happen here. "I don't like the story of New York," she says. Neither do any of us. But what this piece reveals is that when bad things happen, one thing we can do is to talk to each other, listen to each other, and try to understand.
Posted on June 04, 2005 at 07:49 PM
Listening to this piece was like sitting around with one of my girlfriends, hearing her story. It's a story about a life-changing moment, a life-changing decision, told in an engaging, irreverent, natural way. You forget the reporter is there; he comes in every once in awhile, but the experience of hearing this piece is what radio is all about: an intimate, immediate connection between the listener and the storyteller.
There's some suspense, and a teasing out to a surprising conclusion. The mood of the piece is languid and soft, like the Hawaiian guitar music that meanders through it. The topic, the lengths a woman will go to respond to the ticking of her biological clock, is timely and of particular interest to 30-and 40-something women.
Posted on May 29, 2005 at 09:34 PM
I like vox-pop collages for their simplicity, focus and diversity of voices. This one is a charmer. Its structure is simple: people riffing on their first loves, with the song "I Only Have Eyes For You" weaving the vignettes together. Most engaging are memories of playground crushes. It leaves the listener with his or her own memories, perhaps wishing Dmae Roberts and her microphone had stopped by to ask for their first love story. This piece would be a perfect confection to add to a Valentine's Day special.