I am an aspiring podcaster. Do I have a studio? No. Equipment? Again, no. Training? Most decidedly, I do not. Talent? Absolutely none. I bet you’re wondering what makes me think I could be successful in the podcast world. Trust me, I wonder, too. I can talk for hours on end. I may lose my train of thought every 5 minutes and be ever shamed for interrupting to keep my feeble brain on track, but lawd knows I can talk. My mother used to complain about me with an adage. “Dina can talk to a brick wall.” I took it as a compliment, though I am not sure it was completely meant as one. That’s the thing about only child status. We become adept at speaking to ourselves, our imaginary audience, and the occasional brick wall. When I was 8, I wrote a play about, and meant to serve as a launch to stardom for, my parents, their homestead, and all my feral cats. Think of Bonanza but for felines. Mom & Dad were not interested in any public performances. I still think of it as their loss. But, back to the topic of the podcast, a phenomenon that has taken the digital media by storm this past decade. While there are programs for every interest imaginable, the true crime genre resonates the deepest with me. I was hooked by the first episode of Serial. I am still following the trials and tribulations of Adnan Syed as my heart breaks continuously for the family of Hae Min Lee. Still, Mark Twain once said, “Write what you know.” While he never said, “Podcast what you know,” I feel like he would have, had podcasts been a thing in the late 1800s. Fortunately, I don’t know murder. I pray that I never do. There is this one story, however, that gnaws at the pit of my stomach occasionally. It’s a watercolor story from the brain of a child who was prone to imagining some saturated tales. Equal parts overheard adult conversation and fill in the blank innuendo from a kiddo from the country without anything better to do, I’d like to spin a yarn for you today. But, it's a yarn that tangles up a bit close to home. So, I’m changing the names, you know, to protect the innocent. It does not involve murder at all, unless, of course, it does.