Mark Lukach profiles Roman Mars, creator of the truly excellent 99% Invisible podcast.

Roman seems to particularly delight in explanations of why you haven't heard of the object in the first place. Take, for example, an episode Roman collaborated on with writer Jon Mooallem. The two examined two children's toys, the teddy bear, and the billy possum; yes, the billy possum. Thanks to Teddy Roosevelt, the origin of the teddy bear is of course legendary. What you may not have known is the origin of the other toy, the billy possum, which is linked to Roosevelt's successor, William Taft. After a political dinner in the South, at which he ate homecooked possum, Taft supporters introduced the next president with his own children's toy, named the Billy Possum. Since he was going to follow in Roosevelt's footsteps as president, he needed a stuffed animal to accompany him. Which is ridiculous. And now the teddy bear lives on as a cherished children's toy, while the billy possum has faded into obscurity. Why? It's with questions like these that 99% Invisible's at its most fun. Roman and Jon conclude that the billy possum doll faded into obscurity because of the toy's lackluster origin story. Because honestly, who wants to play with a toy inspired by a president devouring a cooked possum?

Lukach notes that the radio version of the show is required to stick to a four and a half minute running time. I knew that the podcast was derived from a public radio show, but I hadn't fully appreciated that the podcast always acted as an extended edition of the radio version. I can't say that I've ever listened to the podcast and felt that it outstayed its' welcome, so I'm all for the extra little flourishes that make the podcast a different entity from the parent show. It's short enough to be easy to find room for, and long enough to intrigue the listener.

Seeing a new episode of 99% Invisible pop up on my iPod Touch is always good news: I know that I'm guaranteed to learn something new in the course of my 12 minute walk from the Metro station to the office.

Seeing this MetaFilter post reminded me that I'd listened to the Radioab podcast's account of the same story, Finding Emilie, a few weeks ago.

In this segment, we take an emotional left turn to a story of a very different kind of lost and found. We begin with a college student, Alan Lundgard, who fell in love with a fellow art student, Emilie Gossiaux. Emilie's mom, Susan Gossiaux, describes her daughter, and the terrible phone call she recieved from Alan nine months after he became Emilie's boyfriend. Together, Susan and Alan tell Jad and Robert about the devastating fork in the road that left Emilie lost in a netherworld [...]

I'm not a huge fan of Radiolab¹, but this episode was first rate. I defy anyone to listen to Emilie's story all the way to the end and remain unmoved.

1. I keep subscribing to their feed, then finding myself with a backlog of Radiolab podcasts to listen to and unsubscribing, only to find myself subscribing again a few months later when someone points out a particularly good episode and I convince myself that this time I'll stick with it. A bit like the way I watch House. ↩

Catching up on my backlog of Coverville podcasts I came across a track by Low Strung, also known as:

"Yale's only cello-rock group."

Their cover of U2's Where the Streets Have No Name doesn't appear to be available to stream at their MySpace page, but trust me: it's well worth listening to Coverville 459 for.

I liked Low Strung's U2 cover so much I went and bought their album. The ensemble's taste in covers isn't what you'd call adventurous, but the highlights – Baba O'Riley, Don't Stop Believing, Sympathy For the Devil and Fix You – are such fun¹ that I can forgive that minor sin.

[Via Coverville]

1. Both for the listener and, I suspect, the group. ↩