COLUMBUS — "You know who has the best-selling album in America?" Uncle Chet asked as we split some wood the other day.

"The Dixie Chicks," I said.

"Even though the Republicans won’t put them on the radio," he said and rolled a big gnarled log toward the splitter.

"What do you mean, the Republicans?"

"Well, who do you think owns the radio stations?" he said. "Clear Channel, believers in government of, by and for the billionaires, and they don’t want any pesky millionaires like the Dixie Chicks speaking out of turn."

"Will you lift?" I said.

"OK," he said, and together we hoisted the stump log onto the splitter.

"So they’re boycotting Natalie Maines for saying she’s ashamed that Bush, their boy, comes from her home state of Texas."

"That was three years ago," I said as we straightened up and the power wedge came down.

"I think she’s still ashamed," he said, "and they haven’t forgotten. But the amazing part is that even with almost no air time, ’Taking the Long Way’ is on top of the Billboard chart."

"It must be good," I said, and we heaved a half log back up onto the bed to quarter it.

"I don’t know; haven’t heard it because they won’t play it on the radio," he said, "but Alice ordered it online last night."

"I’d like to hear it," I said, rolling another log, thicker than it was long, toward the splitter.

"What I’d like to know is how everyone decided to buy it if it wasn’t on the radio," Uncle Chet said. "It must be all over the Internet."

"Gotta be," I said and we hoisted another section of stump onto the bed.

"What’s that say about the value of airtime when the songs they refuse to play top the chart?"

"There’s another way to make it now," I said and poured two glasses of water from an orange Thermos.

"There is," he said, "but it won’t last long unless people fight for it. Back in the ’20s and ’30s, radio was as open as the Internet is now. Little radio stations, voices of the people, were everywhere. But with the FCC as their bad cop, the big boys chased almost all the independents out of business."

"I think it will be harder to take over the Internet," I said, gulping lukewarm water.

"They’re trying, though," Uncle Chet said, and we moved to the shady side of the woodshed. "They’re trying to shut out the little guy and drive everyone to the big sites so we can have uniformity of opinion: war is wonderful, unions are horrible, health care’s a bargain, and the rich pay too much in taxes."

"People may just stop surfing," I sighed, looking at the massive pile of cut logs and much smaller pile of split firewood.

"I doubt it," he said. "They’ll watch anything on TV, listen to the same ’oldies’ over and over on the radio. It’s hard to imagine a revolt over content on the Internet."

"It’ll come from the young; they expect more, " I said as the little miscreant poked her head out the back door and said lunch was ready.

"Right on cue," he said and drained his glass.

I shut off the splitter and we started in.

"You must have heard about Neil Young’s new record; we ordered that one, too," he said.

"I read something. It’s anti-Bush."

"Anti-Bush and anti-war," Uncle Chet said. ’Living With War’ is the title, and that’s another one you won’t hear on commercial radio."

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Cooperstown News Bureau Reporter Tom Grace is traveling with his Uncle Chet, who he says is imaginary. Grace’s column appears twice monthly.