THE WAITING Hello, I see you're new here. Waiting for your kid, huh? Me, too. I’m waiting for my daughter. You see, I’ve been waiting for the last 35 years. Yep…every school day…for the last thirty...five... years. I know you’re wondering how could this be? It was a nice picture-perfect September fall day. My wife calls me at work to tell me she's tied up with some project she was working on. Could I pick up our daughter Vicki? I said of course. She was 10 years old, just an absolute angel. So anyway, I got caught up in traffic, got to the school late…and…Vickie was nowhere to be found. I talked to the teachers, nothing. I talked to the remaining students milling around, again nothing. Maybe she walked home. I drive home…not there. I’m frantic…I call my wife…I call the police. It' s 4 o' clock, 5, 6, 7. I’m searching the neighborhood. Our friends and neighbors are searching. The police are searching. No sign of her. My wife is crying inconsolably. I’m losing it myself at this point, but I try to reassure her, she'll be found, she'll come home. But she didn’t. The days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, the months into years. Now three and a half decades. There were no leads, no evidence of foul play, no sign of an abduction. One of the investigators told me that sometimes people just vanish into thin air…poof. But I know…just know she's coming back. Hopefully, before I die. I’ve got some serious health issues now. Her mom already gone. The worry, the stress, the broken heart...that’s what killed her. Her room is waiting for her. You see the principal there? She' s retiring at the end of this school year. Nice lady, she’s put up with me all of these years. Perhaps the new principal won’t. I’m just a foolish old man, but I haven’t given up hope. I still believe Vickie is going to walk up to this bench here and say, “Pop, pop, where have you been…I’ve been waiting for you. Let's go home. Shall we?” Well I see your daughter is waiting for you. Good afternoon, take care of her ok? Take real good care. NATURAL STANLEY Do you hear the birds? I hear the birds. It' s Natural Stanley coming to you from my backyard, like I’ve done for 30 years on KNAT AM. AM radio is still alive and well friends, just like me. And for any first time listeners, just to let you know, I do the show au natural. But you can’t see me. He-he. Never had the face for tv, but got the body for radio. What I promote is the organic, and natural lifestyle. No pesticides, no processed foods, no bioengineered foods. Now you might be hearing a little background noise from my neighbor's lawnmower. In fact it’s a little to much..hey Phil you sonofabitch! Can you stop, I’ve got a show going on here, the same show I’ve had for 30 years Phil. You know the drill. No I didn’t say I needed a drill. Sorry dear listeners, you had to hear that. So where was I? Meat? Well I’m not a vegetarian. I love animals. They're delicious. But only if they have been raised on grass fed pastures and treated like they are family members who don’t mind being slaughtered. Kill them humanely for goodness sakes. So today’s program is an informative piece about eating flowers. Do you know that most flowers are edible? Yes they are. However there are some exceptions, like the flower from a very rare plant in the Chihuahuan Desert, I consumed once. I passed out and didn’t wake up for two days. Phil enough with the lawnmower again. But really Phil tries to be helpful. He once came over and poured gasoline on a fire ant mound next to my driveway. Yep, Phil' s a real piece of work. Hey don’t make me come over and give you a full moon! Ok folks, lets take a commercial break. After then we’ll go back to eating some flowers…with a little slice of lime. THE DYING OF THE LIGHT There's comes a time in your life, when you know the end is near. The final curtain, exit stage right. You can’t heal yourself and neither can the doctors. All they can do is make you feel more comfortable, less pain with a morphine drip. Call it hospice, call it misery lite, call it what you will. But what you can do is call the priest. I haven’t always led an exemplary life, I drank too much, smoked too much, chased too many women, and involved in a lot of illicit activities…If you know what I mean. When does it all end…a few hours, a few days, maybe a few months at the longest? Now, all of the thoughts, about how you lived, where you lived, who you lived with come flooding in like a mighty river…until they don't. I lost a daughter to suicide on Father’s Day. I lost a son to opioid abuse on his birthday. You can’t make this stuff up. No family left, no brothers, sisters…all gone. Ex-wives…don’t get me started. All I have is a stranger here to provide a modicum of comfort. Now I’m getting too weak to rage against the dying of the light. They check for weapons here…to make sure you don’t take the easy way out. But no worries. I’ll stick it out till the end.