It was 9:02 am and a text came in from Trent Loos, radio personality and agriculture advocate. There is only one reason Trent texts me at 9 a.m.: To ask if I will rescue him and be on his radio show, Rural Route Radio.

While I would like him to plan ahead and put me on the schedule a week ahead of time, it’s just not that way. I’m the person he calls when a guest backs out or when he neglects to get someone the day before. Thus my name, Last Minute Lissa.

I stared at the text and wondered what I should do. Minutes before, I was given the morning schedule, which included a trip to town with an estimated departure of 90 minutes.

If I were to say yes to Trent, I would have to get ready to go to town before I went on the radio. Then I would be able to do the dishes, pick up the house and fold laundry while I was on the radio, and by the time my husband busted through the back door and flew to the bedroom to change his clothes for town, I would be nearly done with the radio show and we would be good to go.
I texted “yes” and he texted “I’ll call you in 20 minutes.”

Turning the hair dryer off, the phone rang, and we were rollin’ on the radio. The timing was perfect; we were discussing a new book he wants to write, while my husband and two kids were getting ready to head to town. Then all of a sudden, he put a screeching halt on the show, said his battery went dead and he would have to call back in 30 minutes to finish the show.

This timing was not so perfect. I piled in the truck with my family and we headed to town. I don’t get good reception in the grocery store so I was trying to figure out where I would be when he called back. Would I be done grocery shopping or would I have to leave my cart in aisle 9 and go stand out in front of the store and talk?

Rattling off the grocery list to my daughter while putting my makeup on, my phone rang and it was Trent calling a little earlier than he said he would. In between segments, I put the phone on mute and told my daughter she would have to go in and start shopping for me, and when I got done I would come in and finish up. It was a good thing I only needed a few things.

Arriving at the store, the kids went in and Bobby headed off to the farm store while I stood in the parking lot by the cart corral, discussing why orange juice had edged out milk as the favorite breakfast beverage. It started to get difficult to hear when the heavy equipment slowly moved by while they repaved the parking lot.

Trent asked where I was. I explained that I was in the middle of a parking lot, and a few short minutes later we were finished with the hour-long show. Off the air, I asked Trent, “Why can’t we ever just have a normal, quiet radio show?”

He replied, “Melissa, there is nothing normal or quiet about you.”

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.