I was calmly reading the New York on-line Times earlier this week, skimming all of the trendy news of Bill repute, ignoring the adverts for height supplements, even paying little heed to the five-day weather forecasts for Ouagadougou, Rangoon and Tuktoyatuk -- which were hot, humid and no listing, respectively -- when I happened upon an article in the arts section that hit so close to home that I began to visibly palpitate and slip into and out of focus. It was a review of a contemporary music concert; and while the overall tone was knowledgeable and friendly, it made numerous references to the difficulty, or indeed obfuscationism, of the music performed. Phrases like "a triumph of endurance" and "not easily penetrated school of music" sounded a red alert in the composer vs. audient section of my brain, but they were mere warm-ups for the clincher, "like minds, and not many of them, huddling together for protection."

That's us!, I thought with some chagrin; that's Kalvos & Damian. For two hundred and five weeks, we -- i.e. the producers, directors, mid-level management, administrative support, union reps, ombudsmen and on-air lackeys -- of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Bazaar, have huddled protectively together here at Radiophonic Headquarters to put our spin on modern music, except for two occasions when a pressing engagement landed us in an alternative time zone. We've presented umpteen dozens of themed programs, live recitals, guest composer interviews, fashionably listenable snippets, a real-time pan-oceanic concert for Pete's sake, and, when technology hasn't gotten the upper hand, put callers-in on the air to agree, argue or whine. And even though we solicit for listener comment each week, the response rate has tended to approximate the weight of Absolute Atomic Discombobulation, and that's pretty darned low -- which is why the "like minds, and not many of them" allegation struck so close to home.

But now here's a chance for you, our listening audient, to prove us, and that know-it-all reviewer, wrong. Take the "not" out of that scary musical indictment. Let us be "like minds, and many of them!" And the easiest and most helpful way to do that is to unearth your telephone right now and call us here at the studio at 802-GLIPSOB and pledge your fiduciary support for this radio program. Yes, it's financial promissory note time at WGDR-FM, a time when you can make all of our equipment upgrade dreams come true. And now, thanks to a college administration that prefers to dole out cherry condition 1979 Alfa Romeo coupes to visiting professors rather than a few bucks for radio transmitter tubes, a monetary "thanks for the melodies" would be particularly appreciated.

Think of it this way. Some tunes we put on the air may be the constructs of a paranoid schizophrenic. If we didn't play 'em, they'd probably languish under the guy's bed, making him feel even more depressed and isolated. Chances are, he'd stop taking his medication and find the key to the gun cabinet. Then, the blame of whatever horrible deed he might commit would rest squarely on the shoulders of whomever didn't contribute a little pin money to help keep this radio program afloat. It could happen!

So help keep this country safe, while at the same time huddling with the rest of us like-minders who are protecting the air waves from boring, redundant music. Give to the coffers of the New Music Bazaar as freely as I give the microphone over to Kalvos.