It’s 3 a.m., that odd space between night and morning. Rosy-fingered dawn has yet to grace me with her presence. The alarm goes off, and I must rise and make my trek across campus to Sayles. The air is crisp as the moon peeks through a veil of wispy clouds. Somebody is still awake in Myers as I pass through the Mini Bald Spot. Those ruthless cyclists that zoom across the sidewalks are all tucked comfortably in their twin XL beds. The chatter of campus is replaced with silence. A soft wind pushes me towards the west. It is in those few minutes between the warmth of my bed and the pits of Sayles that I’m truly alone with my thoughts. I’m barely awake as I make my way, first, towards Anderson. It’s closed, leaving me the only option of taking the long way. In those few extra minutes added to the walk, I contemplate my decision to join KRLX. 

Part of my decision to join KRLX was on a whim. I mean, Ben Wyatt ’96 of “Parks and Recreation” fame did it, so why shouldn’t I? Also, it just seems like one of those wild things that you do in college. Also, I’ve always wanted to have a podcast, and having a KRLX radio show is just that. As a KRLX DJ, you are given full reign of the 30-minutes-to-one-and-a-half hour time slot you’re given. There are certain annoying pieces of red tape, such as being unable to swear, and having to periodically announce the station ID, but, other than that, it’s total freedom. Radio shows can be about virtually any topic, from which artists female characters of classic novels written by women would listen to, to swing dance music, French conversation and classic epics. 

KRLX is great because it gives students a chance to voice their interests and opinions without a filter. There’s no script to follow, no editors to polish your work and you aren’t boxed in by the nature of the organization. You can be satirical on one day and serious on the next. If you have an interest and want to focus specifically on that very niche subject, KRLX is the right place for you. No other organization lets students ramble on ceaselessly with or without polish. 

There’s also something liberating about the low listener count. I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself to hundreds or even a few dozen people. I don’t have to meet the demands of a crowd because there is no crowd. I am free to yell into the void. 

As I sit in the dark studio ranting about the antics of the Greco-Roman gods and the journey of Odysseus, fueled by cheese crackers and off-brand Gatorade from the mailroom vending machine prior to entering the graffiti-laden studio, I find myself content with my decision.