Jennifer D. Wade Journal

Welcome to my online diary, enjoy your stay!

Pod People

Jen Wade is a pod person.  And, I mean that in the best possible way.

To clarify, I'm not talking about me.  I'm talking about "Another Jen Wade", who you can check out using the link to the left.  She lives in San Francisco.  What I know about her, I've learned through her journal entries and, now, through her podcasts.

This past spring, Jen stopped making actual entries to her online diary and began making podcasts.  She gets together with a few of her friends every week or two, and they chat about whatever in a very entertaining manner.  They also play cool music in between segments.  The friends include Shannon K (who also lives in San Francisco, but who, I think, maybe, grew up in Philly and went to Penn State) and Jen Fu.  They also check in by phone with the Wisconsin contingent, Wendy and Mo Pie.

Due to my lack of an iPod or some other kind of mp3 player, it's difficult for me to listen as often as I would like.  But, yesterday, I had some ironing to do.  And, Jen had a podcast that seemed to be the perfect length.  So, while I ironed, I listened to about 45 minutes of stories about neighbors and roommates.

All of which made me think about some of the neighbors I had, especially in my first apartment.  It was at the end of a court in Dunmore.  I had the top floor, and another woman lived on the bottom floor.  The landlord said she had been there for a long time, and was a good tenant.  And, she was.  But, then, she got married or something - anyway, she moved out - so I got new neighbors.

They were a young married couple.  I think the guy had a job, but the woman did not.  At any rate, I don't go out of my way to talk to my neighbors, so our acquaintance consisted mainly of a hello in passing.  Yet, despite this limited contact, when they learned they were about to become parents, I was one of the first people to know.  And, they didn't even have to tell me.  I found out through my clock radio.

What happened was this.  The couple downstairs must have had a cordless phone.  And, once in a while, I guess, the antenna from my clock radio would pick up the signal.  So, even if the radio wasn't on, I would occasionally hear a voice coming through the radio - a voice which I eventually determined was the wife from downstairs talking on the phone.  On one of these occasions, she either told someone she was pregnant, or said enough buzz words that I figured it out.  I could only hear one side of the conversation, so I had to listen carefully and fill in the blanks.

Sure enough, several months later, they had a baby - a girl, I think.  And, not too long after that, they moved out.  Then, some other people moved in.  Maybe someday I'll tell you how that change compelled me to commit the criminal act of breaking and entering.    

Go Back

Post a Comment