I know this, because I still listen to the radio. At home. In the car. I'm an old person that way.
But here's something I haven't done in forever--listen to a baseball game on the radio. Which I did last night. I'd meant to go to the Bees game, but gah. I was tired. And Geoff, who's home visiting from DC didn't feel like it anyway, so I found the game on my AM dial and filled the house with the noise of the crowd and Steve Klauke doing the play by play.
I didn't listen closely but I liked the way it felt like summer in my bedroom. And suddenly I remembered nights growing up when we would hear Vin Scully calling a game all the way from L.A., Baby, with the same stars shining over the mountains and the beach. It made me feel . . . connected
Interesting, isn't it, the things that become the stuff of happy memories.