They can give him a ticker tape parade, for all I care.

For the record, I couldn't care less that Ira Glass is moving to New York. A few Chicago bloggers are wringing their hands over it, but not Poppy.

I listen to WBEZ quite a bit. I've even been known to give them money. But I never listened to his show. Not once.

Why not? Well, among other things, I think all the National Public Radio programming that originates in Chicago pretty much sucks. (How in the hell "848" stays on the air completely eludes me.)

(Come to think of it, the vague titles of NPR shows annoy me. "848." "Odyssey." "All Things Considered." What the hell are they supposed to mean? Give me a strong title that means something. No, not "The Opiate of the Masses." What the hell is that suppposed to mean, anyway? No, I like titles that are succinct and to the point. Like "Car Talk." Or "BBC News.")

But let's think about the title of Glass's show, shall we? It's called "This American Life." Not "This Chicago Life." As long "This American Life" originates somewhere in America, it's OK with me.

And this touches on radio's peculiar magic. Radio is disembodied sounds. Radio can be from anywhere. So who gives a shit where the broadcasts originate?

But is it too much to ask that the quasi-magical disembodied sounds carried over the radio waves be pleasant? You know that expression "He's got a great face for radio?" I've come up with a variant on that--"He's got a great voice for silent film." If D. W. Griffith ever comes back and wants a new leading man, have I got a guy for him. Ira Glass has easily the worst voice on NPR, which is saying a lot. He can't pronounce the letters R and L, so it's "Iwa Gwass on This Amewican Wife."

And people are actually going wanh wanh, because their favorite Elmer Fudd sound-alike is moving to New York?

Bah, humbug. New York can keep him. And park him right next to Johnny Damon.