music, mic, power.

Cds-check. Commercials-check. Power? It's 9:45 and I start to freak. I stare at a huge board with flashing lights and 'man -labels'. I know the station is up and running because I hear the music playing on the other side of the glass walls. But where's the volume for me? I stare up at the massive speakers but they are mute. As the minutes count down to showtime, I become an expert engineer. I spot random cords that dangle. Hmmnn. I bet they should be plugged in somewhere. Where though, I am unsure. I climb on top of the desk and inspect these ceiling speakers that won't play. There must be a power button somewhere. There is always a power button. But no, no buttons on the speakers. I climb down again and sit in the one-armed chair. It's 9:50 and I must make an executive decision. The speakers obviously hate me and it's a losing battle. Defeated, I shoot my radio professor an e-mail. I have failed and the speakers have won. While I wait for my professor to save the day, I investigate this awkward sound board one more time. So many buttons and so many lights. You would think that the genius who labeled the board could have been more creative. But no, the creator seemed to only know three words. That's right, 30 buttons each labeled with one of three words. Couldn't he have added 'power' to his vocabulary? I would even settle for 'on'. I sit back and wait for for the clock to read 10:00. Disrupting my silence, a flashing white seizure light vigorously spasms. The phone! I had connected the emergency light with being the silent phone ring last show (But that's a different story of course). Yes, just as all stories should, this one ends well. My professor saved the day by walking me through the man-board with it's man-labels. And who would have thought- the power button was one of the 10 buttons all labeled the same ingenious word.