[Setting: A roomful of older women and a therapist. One of the ladies, a nervous-looking fortysomething blonde wearing jeans and a sweater, begins to speak.]
Hi. Um, I’m a little embarrassed to be in this support group, but my name’s Sally.
[The rest of the room, in unison] “Hi, Sally.”
This is a big step for me, but I’m here to confess that I’m completely, utterly addicted to Movin’ 101.
[Collective gasp]
I know, I know. Once the former station at 101.1 — R.I.P. “The River” — disappeared, thus depriving me of the chance to hear John Mayer and the Goo Goo Dolls every hour, I was upset. Very upset.
[Murmured assent]
But then, well, I started stopping by the station as I was flipping through the dial. And kept hearing pop, hip-hop, ’80s and cheesy ’90s techno songs I liked. Destiny’s Child. Gwen Stefani. Bobby Brown. A lot of Bobby Brown. Prince. Madonna. Soon I found myself gravitating toward the station all the time, hoping to hear things I haven’t heard in ages: Kylie Minogue, George Michael, Soul II Soul, Cypress Hill, Naughty By Nature.
[Woman to Sally’s left starts humming “Hip Hop Hooray,” then blushes and stops.]
Soon I was sneaking out at night after my husband was asleep, hoping to hear Rednex’s “Cotton-Eyed Joe” and the latest Rihanna jam. When my daughter caught me lip-synching to Fergie’s “Fergalicious” in the bathroom mirror, holding a hairbrush while gazing at the cover of the Justin Timberlake CD I stole from her, I knew I’d hit rock bottom.
[Several of the women pat Sally on the back as she hangs her head ashamedly.]
But I know now that I need to only listen to Movin’ 101 in the morning to pep me up. A little Kelly Clarkson girl-power goes a long way!
[Everyone applauds. Fade out.]