My husband, Kotz, however, had other ideas. “Oh honey, I’m sure it will be great!” “I think you are exaggerating the problems!” and so on. He was up in the Kahurangi National Park with our Pilot Station visitors while I recorded that interview, so how did he know?
Sunday dawned and Kotz unplugged his precious multi band radio from his workshop, carried it up onto our covered deck and set it up in a grandstand position on the centre table, carefully placing a semi circle of chairs to face it. The setup reminded me of my childhood days, waiting by the large radio set with my sister for our favourite program Life with Dexter to begin.
But 12:50 came, then 12:50 went and still the announcer gave no indication of any forthcoming author interview. My relief at this unexpected development inspired some of my excuses: “Oh, it must’ve needed too much editing,” “They probably decided I was gabbling too much!”
I leapt from my seat leaving the others sitting there still staring at the radio, in the hopes of managing to conjure the elusive interview from the machine. I tried hard to match their consternation but was actually jumping for internal joy.
It appeared that the interview had been aired at the correct time, and that my fears of ruining it were unfounded.
There are further interviews scheduled, and my husband has decided to search these out himself, believing I deliberately misled him with the frequency of the radio program. I can honestly tell you gentle readers, I definitely did not.