"In the old days, I used to lay down on the floor as a little boy underneath my mother's radio and listen to my stories." -- Pep

There's no doubt about it, we've come a long way in the vast realm of radio.

Over the weekend, I got a chance to swing by my grandparent's place in Fall River for an overdue visit. My Memere' (Grandmother) was rocking in her favorite chair and my Pepe' (grandfather) was reading the newspaper and eating some burnt toast that seemingly stunk up the apartment.

"Hey!" he shouted when I walked into the room. "What brings you here, kiddo?"

I kissed my grandmother on the cheek, and firmly shook Pep's hand. That's the thing about him, he may be getting up there in age, often times stumbling about the house, but his handshake grip has never faded.

"Tell me about the days of radio when you were a little boy," I asked my grandfather.

Before he could even process the question, he sprung right into one of his stories; boy, do I enjoy his stories. They always seem to last a good 20 minutes to an hour, but I was able to shorten it down to under two minutes:

His stories are always warm and fuzzy and seem to paint the perfect picture of the golden days when he, too, was once a young lad.

#PepsPastime #Radio

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