There were some drunken shenanigans over the weekend, but I am kind of waiting to post them with pictures. Even though I only took a half-day on Friday, it definitely felt like a bona-fide LONG WEEKEND. Much needed.

But so then while buzzing around on Sunday, I pick up a copy of the “Free Phoenix” and I see this article. For those of you who, like me, are too lazy to click on the link, I can summarize it for you in three words:

Pile Of Shit.

WBUR is CANCELLING the CONNECTION. wtf? For starters, I had enjoyed a year-long sordid love affair with the voice of Dick Gordon (oh talk to me about Baghdad baby), but beyond my carnal aural needs, I could write a compelling essay on Why This Is The Worst Executive Decision Ever. It was a nationally syndicated, locally produced, evenly slanted show that split its time equitably between topical current events and human-interest stories, something you certainly can’t attribute to the shows “On Point” and “Fresh Air”. “On Point” will be moving to the 10AM slot previously held by “The Connection” while a 1-hour re-broadcast of “On Point” and a 1-hour re-broadcast of “Fresh Air” will take the 7-9 slot where, let’s face it, “On Point” was probably better placed. Who can deal with the intensity of Tom Ashbrook at 10AM? He’s all argumentative and borderline pompous and people are always getting into fights on his show. Plus, “Fresh Air” is produced in PENNSYLVANIA. We’re taking a critically acclaimed, nationally syndicated, locally produced show OFF our (and everybody else’s) airwaves and replacing it with an hour rebroadcast of another, remotely produced, locally syndicated show that is basically an in-depth arts magazine!

Apparently the show was cancelled last month while I was in LA, and the last broadcast was last Friday while I was en route to Woods Hole, so I’m a little behind the times, but do you know that only TWO articles were written about the disappearance of this Boston staple? One in the Phoenix and one in the Herald. Plus a bunch of op-eds in the Globe.

OK, so this wasn’t the best diatribe ever or whatnot, but I am all emotional. Right now it’s 10:11 am, and I should be warmly ensconced in the soft strains of the Connection. Instead, my radio is silent and the only sound is my forlorn typing. And someone making a snack in the kitchen. But whatever.

WBUR, you have disappointed me. And I’ll be keeping my fifty bucks a year now, you rat-finks.

tomorrow, hopefully, there will be pictures.