I hadn’t planned on taking a break from podcasting when we moved into our new home back in 2018. It just worked out that way.

I took for granted just how great my old room was for recording at the old house. The air conditioning was silent. The room’s upstairs location blocked the sounds of neighbors mowing and cars passing. The surrounding shelves of toys and books suppressed the room’s echo.

After we moved, I consolidated the function (and many of the contents) of three rooms into one. The new room’s bare, high walls echoed the echoes, and amplified the physical sounds my computer made. Recording anything of quality in that room was impossible. I moved my gear into the front room, and while the sound was a little better, it still wasn’t great. I decided to take a break from podcasting until my backyard workshop and movie room had been constructed. We estimated the whole process would take two to three months. Instead, it took seventeen.

A funny thing happened along the way: COVID-19. Over the past several months, we’ve seen nearly every aspect of the entertainment industry shut down. Sports, cancelled. Movie theaters, closed. Concerts, postponed. Yes, the moves, music, and books I already owned were still here waiting to be enjoyed, but the steady stream of new content I was so used to consuming dried up.

Except for podcasts. Every day, my phone downloads five or ten new podcast episodes for me to listen to. The topics range from retro video games to movie special effects, pop culture, and modern ghost stories. Some of these podcasts are created by celebrities, some of them are shows made by my friends, and some of them are recorded by complete strangers. They are comforting to listen to. Whether the hosts are famous or not, after a while the people on the other side of the microphone begin to sound like friends.

Pre-COVID I listened to podcasts when I could, but over the past several months, I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts. I listen to at least one before starting work, and have them playing in the background when possible while working. I play them in the car, and I listen to them when I’m out working in my workshop. I listen to comedians telling jokes, interviews on NPR, and all kinds of weird, entertaining, and educational stuff.

At least once a week I get messages from people asking when my own podcasts are coming back, and somewhere along the way, I had an epiphany. My shows to them are what others’ shows are for me. Whether they personally know me or not, it’s that familiar voice, talking about topics they enjoy.

And so, about about a month ago, I pulled the podcart out of storage and began working out some show ideas. Over the past month I’ve put out four episodes: two of You Don’t Know Flack and two of my Commodore 64 themed podcast, Sprite Castle. I’ve decided to schedule new shows to come out just after midnight on Thursdays — just in time for Friday (or weekend) listening.

With all my gear set up, I realized something else. The shows I make aren’t just for other people to enjoy. I enjoy making them, too. Everything from the research before the shows to the feedback I get after they hit the internet is enjoyable to me. As much as the time spent listening to podcasts is helping pass the time until other forms of entertainment return, the making of them has the same effect on me.

The room I’m currently recording in is still has too much echo. Thanks to some donations from some of my listeners, I’ve ordered the materials needed to create a sound-deadening booth, which I’m hoping to assemble this week.

Link: Podcast.RobOHara.com