I can’t talk about NPR and sexuality with mentioning Terry Gross. For a while, when I worked from home in Dallas, I listened to Fresh Air every afternoon, and I still miss it. As I would wash a sink of dishes or click away an hour on the internet, avoiding the writing I had promised myself to do, I would let my imagination curl up into whatever conversation Terry Gross was having. And it’s not that I had erotic thoughts about her so much as an erotic curiosity. I found myself fascinated about her sexuality. “I’m Terry Gross. And this is Frrrrresh Air.” Man, she bit into that name. Every single time.
I didn’t really get the sex appeal of Terry Gross… until I found out that she robs banks on the side.