I leave for work around 2:30 in the morning. Sometimes a little earlier...well, rarely, a little earlier and sometimes a little later. But, whenever the departure time, the voices I hear are about the same. Now, before you call Dr. Phil or that "voices-from-the-great-beyond" guy, John Edward or, for that matter presidential candidate John Edwards or the old-time great preacher Jonathan Edwards, let me make clear that I am talking, primarily, about the voices coming from my radio. This is not to say I don't hear other voices in my head. For example, there are times that the voice is my mother's, saying "Randy, Craig, Mark, Joel. (Sometimes she goes through the whole list of sons before landing on the one she means. I understand completely as I do the same thing with our four kids. Sometimes I include the dog. Other times I just ask the one I'm looking at what his or her name is before proceeding. Now, back to my mother's voice in my head:)Don't follow that car ahead of you too closely...slow down...when you get home, take a nap." Sound advice. Occasionally, I will hear my father saying "Hey, you, do you know you're weaving and why is there only a quarter tank of gas in the car? If you run out of gas, it's your own fault, you know." I hear my wife and kids and, every other Tuesday for some reason, my dog talking to me as I head in to the station.

When I first hit the road, I don't even have the radio on. I use that quiet time to go through what I have to get done that day. For example, I will say to myself, after quieting mom, dad, wife, kids and dog (every other Tuesday): "Okay...do FirstNews with Donna Pitman and Jere Gish from 5-7 on KMBC-- Coverage You Can Count On...do the KCMO radio stuff with Chris Stigall on the new KCMO Morning Show with Chris Stigall, 5-9 in the morning on 710 KCMO...(Yes, I say the entire little promotional blurb...it is not just a sneaky way to get plugs into this story.)...finish the day's crossword puzzle, trying not to use random words this time but actually reading the clues...do a jigsaw puzzle at Jigzone.com...do it twice if the puzzle features cute, little ducks...walk the dog, walk him twice if we encounter cute little ducks...pretend to read the paper with eyes closed...consider getting started on our taxes...disregard previous thought...watch Rockford Files...just before the kids start to get home, take laundry out of dryer and be pretending to fold it when they come in the door...eat...go to sleep." After I have done this litany, I turn the radio on.

I don't tend to listen to music stations very much. First of all, I am deeply offended that the oldies station now considers my recent young adulthood as "nostalgic." I liked it much better when they played songs that had been recorded before I was born. If we had a "Music of Your Life" station around here featuring Sinatra and Ella and Bing and Rosemary, I'd listen. Or, a classic country station with Roger Miller, Johnny Cash, Marty Robbins and Merle Haggard. Every now and then, I turn on the classical station just for the culture of it but, eventually, the highly educated announcer will say "Please, Joel, who are you trying to kid? Move to a different frequency as you are driving our audience's overall IQ and SQ (that's Sophistication Quotient) way down." Last Christmas, my family gave me a portable cd player that you can plug into the car radio so, on longer trips like to school visits, I can play some music. Right now, I have The Greatest Hits of Perry Como on there. I'm pretty sure there is some hidden message in the lyrics of Hot Diggity Dog Diggity Boom What You Do To Me. My oldest brother, Randy, used to tell kids in grade school that Perry Como was his uncle. That has nothing to do with the rest of this story but I find it interesting.

However, in the morning, as I mentioned, I don't listen to music. Mostly, I turn on the radio, briefly, to hear some news and weather. It is in those short moments that I hear other voices that, frankly, make me uneasy. There's always a guy with a very high-pitched voice scolding me about not having a better mortgage and indicating that, by having such a horrible interest rate, my children are most likely going to be selling apples and pencils on the street corner to support me and themselves at some point. Then, another voice comes on saying "DEBT IS ALL AROUND YOU!" First of all, how does he know me so well and, secondly, does he have to be so scary? After being chided for my financial foibles, I get told that I'm a little heavy around the middle, my skin isn't up to snuff and how about that ever-widening bald spot? It is right about there that some woman starts harping at me "Are you wondering how you're going to make it through the day? What happened to you? You used to be fun. You used to have dreams. You used to have friends. Now, Joel Nichols, you're a mess." Okay, she probably doesn't really call me out by name, but it sure seems like it. Eventually, she wants all of us with high stress and anxiety to use her course. But I never get to the end of that commercial because I become so distraught, I turn the radio off.

All of these little spots come at me in about a two minute time-span and it can be enough to cast a pall over the day if one isn't careful. Usually, after I turn the radio off, I seek comfort in the smooth voice of Mr. Perry Como telling me to "Catch a Falling Star and put it in your pocket. Never let it fade away..." and listen for my mom's voice to return, telling me "Oh, don't listen to all those people. You're perfect. You're my favorite son. Now, slow down, don't follow the car ahead so close and, when you get home, take a nap."