Who ARE You?

A coupla days ago, a friend and I were lamenting the recent dissolution of Z104. Not that I listened to the pop music mecca all that often, but I like the idea of a little variety in the airwaves. And blech, not variety stations. There's just something wrong about following up Gorillaz with Phil Collins. If I want to hear what the tweens are groovin' on these days, dadgumit, I don't want to have to log onto the internet or subscribe to satellite radio to find it.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, we were lamenting. Because of phenomenally bad reception within the District, my friend pointed out that she only gets about three stations clearly, and only two of them play music during the morning commute. No stranger to the travails of the morning drive in the Metro area, I empathized in a big way. We were feeding off of the commiseration, so I decided to one-up my friend, and complain that of the two stations that actually spin some tunes, one of 'em is Mix 107.3, home of The Jack Diamond Morning Show. I think I may have punctuated that sentence with "Yuck" or a gagging noise of some ilk.

My friend blinks at me, slowly, and says, "I like Jack Diamond. He and his crew seem like they are pretty warm, caring people."

It's like I'd been hit with a stun gun. I guess you could say I was stunned. She likes Jack Diamond? JACK DIAMOND? I'm a big believer in chacun à son goût and everything, but only if I have a glimmer of an insight as to why an entertainer might be to your goût. Jack Diamond uses the goopy, ululating radio voice. Jack Diamond is fakey sweet to the show's guests. He discusses topics that I don't think anyone really cares about ("Do you say hello to your boss out of the office when you've got some out-of-control kids in tow?"). Nothing about the guy's style has ever appealed to me (I'm sure he's really worried about it, too).

But I'm not here to exclaim just how deeply unimpressed I'm colored by Mix 107.3's morning crew. The fact that someone with whom I think I share all kinds of taste actively likes the, um, entertainment he's broadcasting into the ether has knocked me for a loop. How can our interests be so divergent? Yes, yes, variety's the spice of life, but I believe my distaste for the guy is a measurable part of my hipster quotient.

Will more differences of opinion surface, cicada-style, to surprise me decades into a friendship? Will I suddenly find out that another friend thinks that Barbie is a good role model for girls? Or that the Monkees rock harder than the Beatles? Or that Gus van Sant's Psycho improved upon the original?

Don't get me wrong; it's not like I'm going to start divesting myself of relationships based on these trivialities. I'm not that shallow (wink).