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Greetings and Welcome to The 405 Coffee Break with O.K. Solberg
New episodes tend to air over the local KMMR radio station @ 5 minutes past 4PM each M-F. And have been doing so, nearly every week since Sept 2018.
I'm D.J. Rasmussen, O.K.s friend since junior high, possibly your neighbor & this websites maintainer, whom strives to get each episode's show notes written, the transcript proofed and the audio posted to the internet within a few hours of that days KMMR air time. NOTE: recently been publishing most new releases by 4:30PM.
Thanks for visiting and I hope you enjoy the time we can spend together.
Wanna again welcome you to The 405 Coffee Break. Guys, get your cup of coffee, glass iced tea, bottled water. Let's see what's happening out there.
OK Solberg:Spring wheat jumped above the $6 mark a few days back, $6.48 a bushel, 550lb steer calf, $5.05 a pound. A 100lb fat lamb in Billing is not moving much, stands pretty steady. $2 and 92, $2.93 a pound. But guys, there's more, much more.
OK Solberg:Bible verse and then we'll run. It's Friday. Like it says in Psalm 118:24 This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Again, Psalm 118 verse 24.
OK Solberg:What do you think of Fridays? What do you think of Fridays? Today is Friday. By Friday, the world sounds different. On Monday, Monday still stomps into town with its alarm clocks and spilled coffee and people trying to remember where they left their ambition over the weekend.
OK Solberg:Tuesday rolls along like an old freight train carrying bills, meetings, and aching backs. Wednesday stands there like a fence post in the middle of a long pasture. And Thursday, well, Thursday is mostly Friday wearing work boots, but Friday, but Friday, Friday is different.
OK Solberg:Friday whistles. You can hear it in the factory at 04:58 when men who have tightened bolts all week long suddenly tighten them a little faster. You can hear it in school hallways where children move with the speed of greyhounds the moment the final bell rings.
OK Solberg:You can hear it in little diners all across America where the waitress pours one more cup of coffee and says, do you have big plans for the weekend? And even if there are no plans at all, Friday still feels like permission to breathe.
OK Solberg:A farmer feels it. After six days of fighting weather, machinery, mud, and markets, he leans against the pickup at sunset on Friday evening and watches the wind move through the wheat like waves on an ocean. Same field as Thursday. Same bills as Tuesday. But somehow Friday tells him he survived another week.
OK Solberg:A mother fills it. The laundry still needs folding. The dishes still sit in the sink. But Friday night means pizza boxes on the counter and children asleep in the living room before the movie ends. And for just a little while, the house quits being a schedule and starts being a home again.
OK Solberg:Teenagers fill it. Oh, mercy. Do they fill it. Friday night football. Friday night football beneath light so bright they can be seen from 10 miles away.
OK Solberg:First dates, first dances, cheap cologne, borrowed jackets, engines rumbling in grocery parking lots, young people laughing too loud because youth itself is overflowing out of them like water from a fire hydrant. And the old folks, well, the old folks feel it too.
OK Solberg:Don't let them fool you. A retired man sitting at the same cafe every Friday morning still straightens up when the waitress says, the usual? Because Friday reminds him of paychecks once earned, children once raised, and the sweet relief of clocks finally punched out after long hard weeks of work.
OK Solberg:Friday has never really been about the calendar, it's about hope. It is a promise that burdens are temporary, that rest is coming, that supper tastes better when it's been earned, that laughter sounds richer after responsibility, that people need something to look forward to.
OK Solberg:Even God, in the ancient rhythm of creation, built life with pauses in it, work then rest, labor then peace. And maybe that's why humanity smiles differently on Friday. Not because life suddenly becomes easy, but because for one shining evening, people remember they were never created merely to produce but also to live.
OK Solberg:So tonight, somewhere, a porch swing will creak beneath a tired father. Somewhere, a little league game will stretch past sunset. Somewhere, friends will gather around a grill, a jukebox, a church fellowship hall, or even a kitchen table. And somebody, without even thinking about it, will say the words mankind has probably loved saying for a hundred years. I'm sure glad it's Friday.
OK Solberg:So until next time, as you go out there, remember now, don't be bitter.