Last night during the show, we had some unexpected interference from a nearby radio tower. Instead of being frustrated, I found myself fascinated by how the static weaved in and out of the ambient track I was playing.

There's something profound about unintentional sound - the way random electromagnetic waves can create textures that no synthesizer could replicate. It reminded me of why I fell in love with radio in the first place: it's this beautiful intersection of technology, chance, and human intention.

"The medium is part of the message, and sometimes the medium has its own ideas."

I've been thinking about incorporating more of these "happy accidents" into future shows. Maybe leaving certain frequencies open, inviting the chaos of the electromagnetic spectrum to participate in the sonic journey.

The static reminded me of old tape loops I used to make in college - how the degradation became part of the composition. Every time the loop cycled, it picked up new artifacts, new ghosts in the machine. By the tenth generation, the original sound was barely recognizable, transformed into something entirely new.

In our hyper-digital world, we're obsessed with perfect fidelity. But there's wisdom in embracing the imperfections, the accidents, the interference. These moments remind us that we're working with physical waves traveling through real space, bouncing off buildings and mountains, affected by weather and electromagnetic fields.

Radio isn't just about transmitting information - it's about creating space for the unexpected. Every broadcast is a conversation between the host, the technology, the environment, and the listeners. Sometimes the environment has something to say.

What do you think? Have you ever had a moment where technical problems became part of the art? Call in next Friday and share your stories. I'd love to hear about your own encounters with beautiful interference.