Actually, to fully capture The Aielli Effect, you should take the above example and expand it by about forty minutes (at least) but I trust you get my gist, so let’s move on to TAE as it applies to the Plane Crash Incident. So, okay, the story was fresh, I was worried that masses of people had been killed, and I wanted hard news. Aeilli comes on and, no shit (and no surprise come to think of it) says something along these lines: A plane crashed into a building up on 183. Why I remember the days of my youth! The site where that building is now was all pastures. And how I used to ride horses through those fields! Ah, yes….

I think I turned the radio off then, before waiting to hear if JA would play a set list including Horse with No Name, something by the Horsies, the theme song from the My Pretty Pony television ad campaign, and Patti Smith’s Horses in its entirety. Because while some days I indulge in the guilty pleasure of listening to the man prattle on, other times it takes everything I have not to punch the radio. It’s reached the point where I’ve come up with a conspiracy theory that goes like this:

The real reason they are closing the Cactus Café and ending Informal Classes at UT is because the $150k once dedicated to those efforts had to be repurposed to install and maintain a mobile reflecting pool that sherpas must trail Aeilli with at all times, as per some contract agreement. Because you see, despite all the grumblings about JA, I have it on good authority that his show far and away nets the most listener pledges during fund drives. Bitch about him all you want—he’s the Mack Brown of the UT airwaves. And whatever John (or Mack) wants, John (or Mack) gets.

Which brings us to the next topic in Round Up Week. I make no secret about my slavish dedication to KUT. I have a sick addiction to the station that is rivaled only by my addiction to buying dog costumes at Target and forcing my Boston Terriers to model them. I can recite the schedule for you. And yes, it’s true, I even sometimes make little “appearances” via the Sonic ID spots. I’ve contributed a decent amount of money to support the station over the years. But unless and until they stop running that spot during which Hawk Mendenhall condescendingly tells us, as if we are collectively and severely developmentally delayed, about the importance of budget and how our money helps his station balance theirs, I’m not opening my checkbook again. I’m not the first person to complain about this spot—there’s just something about it that grates. (There is a silver lining I suppose, as HM’s little lecture serves as a foil to those Donate-Your-Car spots, which by comparison—and only by comparison—actually are tolerable.)

Being solution oriented, I’m suggesting that KUT replace the HM speech with Cranky Lady Commentary, whereby I take to the airwaves, and say something like:

Look, y’all—we all fucking hate the fund drives. A lot of you are still pissed off about the whole Larry Monroe/Paul Ray thing. And some of you can’t believe I like Matt Reilly. But it’s time to quit your bitching, bust out your wallet, and send in some dough now, so we can get this crap over with and let JA get back to telling us why the number seven reminds him of forty different moments in his life. Let’s go. Hup-hup. Send us your money right now or we’re going to resume the Hawk attack, people.

And finally, moving away from KUT, and on to my final topic for the week, one that I believe to be of great importance, but which even I cannot think of a way to stretch into a full-length post: Parking Meters.

Okay, so you know the newish parking meters? Instead of having individual meters at parking spots, now you go to a little meter machine, insert your coins or card, and get a sticker that you must put on your windshield where the meter reader can see it. Initially, I was irritated realizing that this new method means that you can’t pull out of a spot for which you’ve overpaid, pleased knowing that at least the next guy can get a little break and use up your leftover time.

Then it dawned on me—you can leave your sticker, if it has leftover time, stuck to the machine so someone who comes along can reuse it. When I went to do just this, I saw someone else had the idea before me (imagine that) and I was pleased at the thought that this might be the start of a little fuck-you movement. My hunch is that there is probably already some detailed law on the books criminalizing this act, just like meter feeding was banned. But until they hire people and/or install cameras to monitor and stop this mischief, I encourage you all to share those extra minutes.

And you know, the word “minutes” reminds me the concept of “time” which causes me to imagine a John Aielli moment during which he might say something like this:

Isn't time so peculiar—some days it flies, some days it will just drag. And speaking of which, aren’t flies bothersome little creatures? But maybe if we could dress flies in drag they would be less bothersome. Bothersome?

A Fly in Drag

That sort of sounds like Witherspoon, which might make me think of a peanut butter cup except actually it makes me think of Jake Gyllanhaal, whose name I can never remember how to pronounce, so I’m going to try it out several ways right now because even though I know it’s really boring for you, I can say whatever I want because—hold on a second, could somebody PLEASE scootch my reflecting pool a little to the right—where was I? Oh yes. Jake Gyllanhaal—wasn’t he magnificent in Brokeback Mountain. My GOD. What talent that actor has. He reminds me of me! Okay, now I’m going to play There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, followed by the theme from Brokeback Mountain, and the Torch Song Trilogy in its entirety.

Spike Gillespie is looking for a Boston Terrier-sized John Aielii costume. She blogs for JetAustin, KnitBuzz, and her own damn self.

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