A few weekends ago, I co-hosted a yard sale with my pal Kikirikee. While I managed to sell a decent amount of items we no longer needed at Casa Crazedparent, I also managed to bring home a few things as well. (This is always the case when you co-host a garage sale, si?)
Along with several of Thomas the Tank Engine trains and accessories for Q., I bought a Walkman. A young boy, probably about 8 years old, was holding it and asking, "What is this thing?" Kikirikee and I explained that it played music. And then I proceeded to take it from his hands, ever so politely, and buy it. For fifty cents.
I have large box of cassettes in our garage. I've held onto them with the belief that someday, my boys will appreciate learning about some important, if not critical, parts of their mom's childhood. Music has always been part of my core. (How many times have you read that on crazedparent? A lot.) I can pick up a cassette case and tell you exactly what was going on in my life at that point in time just based on the album cover and songs.
Over the weekend, I was home alone and working on my closet workspace (pictures coming). When I found a cable that would connect the Walkman to my portable iPod speaker, I literally jumped off a chair that I was standing on, ran into the garage, and grabbed five tapes from that box of cassettes.
I cranked up the volume and the sheer joy of listening to Def Leppard (Hysteria), Don Henley (The End of the Innocence) and The Beatles (Please Please Me) -- on tape -- was bliss. Mix tapes I'd made for Prom weekend. I couldn't stop smiling, especially when a part of a song started to warble, reminding me that it was rewound and played over and over and over.*
When the boys came home, I showed them the Walkman. Seven was mesmerized. "A TAPE? That's cool!" He sat in the living room as The Beatles sweetly crooned love songs. He learned how to rewind and fast forward. He asked questions that made us look at the differences between iPods and old music technology.
Then it got a little crazy.
Seven and Q. have been singing bits from "Gonna Make You Sweat" by C+C Music Factory of late. Specifically, the phrase "Everybody dance now!" has become "Everybody eat now!". "Everybody sleep now!" And my favorite, "Everybody be quiet now!"
Pandemonium ensued when I showed them the cassette holder of that very song and album. We had to listen to said song, natch.
Today, the house is still. The boys are back at school, the husband at work, and I go about my daily business.
But the Walkman is getting a workout. And that box full of cassettes is slowly emptying while their songs roll through the house and fill my mind with memories that make me smile.
*Tidbit: I own not a single Rick Springfield cassette. Only albums and CDs!
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