Galvin crop

The squirrels who treadmill the power for the Column Content Generator (batteries not included) have been acting, well, squirrely as the days grow shorter and grayer as 2024 stumbles toward its end — meaning inspiration would have to be ferreted out of the unlikeliest of places … in this instance, the gray matter in ye ol’ noggin (batteries not included).

It wound up coming from a podcast, sort of.

While it was technically true that I was listening to a podcast at the time lightning struck, it actually was an ad I heard during the podcast that provided the key.

An ad for another podcast.

Sort of.

My toe-dipping experience in the world of podcasting is that many of the ads on them are promotions for other podcasts — the theory being, I suppose, that if you are the type who listens to podcasts, you can be enticed to listen to other podcasts.

(Personally, I find the logic in this argument flawed; which I can prove by way of the Potato Chip Test. Just because you favor Sea Salt flavored chips doesn’t mean that you can stomach the idea of chomping into some Sour Cream & Onion.)

But I digress.

The podcast personality on the ad that caught my ear was introducing her new podcast — which would tell the tale of a different podcast that she had attempted to produce a year or so earlier, but had never materialized.

The two subjects of THAT podcast had backed out of the project some time ago, only to materialize months later when they left a cryptic message on her phone. The message, which she played as part of her ad, sounded quasi-threatening and quasi-intriguing, but asserted that they were now ready to do the original podcast.

The producer’s squirrels, however, were apparently in tip-top shape, because it dawned on her that she now had the makings of an entirely different podcast — one that told the story of how the original podcast failed, and just what was behind the cryptic, creepy message on her phone.

At least, I think that’s what’s going on here; before I could shake the cobwebs, the podcast I had tuned into started up again and proved neither as threatening nor intriguing as the ad.

There are a metric crap-ton of podcasts out there, producing methane in their madness. According to what internet source you believe, there are anywhere from three to six million podcasts registered worldwide — although, according to one count, fewer than 5% of them currently are producing new episodes.

A fair number of these podcasts, by the way, cite information from and/or interview the hosts of other podcasts. There are podcasts that critique other podcasts (and, likely, a podcast that reviews those critiques). And, of course, there are podcasts that coach you — yes, you! — on how to create your own podcast.

I can tell you this much: I do not have a podcast, although it was suggested to me once by an editor, who thought whatever it was that I was doing would translate well into a podcast format.

I demurred, assuring my editor that I didn’t think I had anything of interest to say — which, I realize now, wasn’t the sort of thing someone should admit when they were being paid to write a column weakly, or even a weekly column.

(Not that you all hadn’t come to that same realization years ago.)

Sort of.

As for podcasts about podcasts — even ones about podcasts that never were produced — it’s a predictable and inevitable metamorphosis.

Witness the plethora of murder mysteries written about mystery writers solving mysteries, or movies about filmmaking, TV series about creating TV shows … or the cross-pollination of all those forms of expression.

The next thing you know, columnists will get away with writing columns about writing columns.

Which reminds me, there’s a couple of squirrels who owe me some Sea Salt potato chips for doing their work for them.