11,550 kilometres (7,200 miles) couldn’t do it. 7 months living out of a suitcase couldn’t do it. Only eating pasta .072% of the time, 67% less often than usual, couldn’t do it. Only kind-of speaking the local language couldn’t do it. I thought I was going to get out of my half-year period abroad without once getting homesick. How wrong I was.

So what did it? What, after 24 weeks of homesickness-free time had passed, made me finally wish I was back home? It was a robot. This robot:

Dances with Robots (from the Flickr)

Okay, I’m pining for a robot. Specifically KSCR’s free-wheeling, head-losing, Justice and Cut Copy-loving, foot-loose and girl scout-stalking Revolutionary Robot that I missed. I haven’t seen it in years, since I was an intern in the days when Richard was GM and Nicole could still persuade me to don that tattered cardboard costume in 30-degree Los Angeles heat. The days when it was just me, Tim, Jeff and Aisah manning the table, when Steve still showed up, days when we were surrounded by more buttons than we knew what to do with and wearing our matching shirts, which we didn’t yet get for free. I fell in love with USC’s radio station that moment, and now continents away I still spent all summer wishing I was back in that dumpy, rat-infested studio to air my weekly shows and marvel at our polaroid schedule.

And then I saw it, the video of the dancing robot. Until that moment, I was the last person to wear the robot. It’s head was different. It came with shiny silver pants held up with suspenders (still eight sizes too big for me). It’s head was a spray-painted lampshade with a facehole I was too short to see out of. You had to wear it with gloves. And while the new and improved (and shinier, I see) robot looks just as uncomfortable as the first, I couldn’t help but wish I was inside that robot again.

Let’s face it, it’s not about promoting ourselves, or perfecting our brand, or making sure we have 24-hour programming. It’s not about booking the greatest live acts and getting everyone on programming board or in new north or across the street that science centre to notice us. It’s about music. It’s about a bunch of kids who got in a room and loved music so much they wanted to play it every hour of every day for everyone else that loves music too. It’s about fun. Because music is fun. And we are a fun station. It’s sad that no one knows about us, but it isn’t the end of the world because we’d be lying if we said we did it for the world. We do it for us. For music. And that’s what makes it good.

KSCR, I miss you terribly. I want to come back home right now and make a fool of myself in front of Tommy Trojan for you. I’m sorry I abandoned you. You know no amount of time or distance could change how passionate I’ve always been about music, and no inter-office scuffle or intra-staff antics could ever dim my adoration for our quirky and endearing station. I will come home. And I will never again forget how wonderful an asset you were. Are. Will be. See for yourself.