In a radio world of shrill and shit, finding something of substance is like finding the needle in a Goliath-sized haystack. It seems it’s easier to win the lottery than to find something real to listen to; something with emotion, and substance, that tells a story of that place you’ve been to and couldn’t quite put your finger on, or forget. But that place you’ve been looking for the road map to for as long as you can remember.
For me, I was sitting in a hotel room in Portland, Maine, …