When I was a teenager, my parents gave me a stereo one Christmas. It had a turntable, AM/FM radio, separate (stereo!) speakers, and (believe it or not) an 8-track player. How or why they decided on 8-track is beyond me because the only thing we had in the house was cassettes. They included Elton John’s Greatest Hits and, to my amazement, the unit could record and I also got a blank tape. Being at an impressionable age, I somehow managed to record Monty Python’s Live at City Center which very likely explains my sometimes strange sense of humor. There’s nothing like having the “Crunchy Frog” skit on permanent loop to bring out the “best” in teenage wit.
As it turns out, those were the only two tapes I ever owned. Mercifully, the 8-track fad passed into oblivion but the mental imprint of repeatedly listening to those two tapes will be with me forever. Very much like the 10 song playlist in my iPod.
Time has a funny way of clarifying things. As we get older, what once seemed incredibly important now looks absolutely mundane. When I was listening to those tapes, it was very important to learn all the words to the songs and skits. OK, I’ll admit to being guilty as most regarding lyrics in Rocket Man but that didn’t stop me from trying. And, while I still pride myself on being able to recite some of these from memory, the idea of acquiring additions to my repertoire isn’t even on my top-30 list of things to do..
I’d like to blame my situation on the 24×7 news-cycle or the internet but the truth is I think my gray-matter has reached a critical mass. Given the combustible crucible of cultural/religious intolerance of the Middle East, genocidal atrocities in eastern Africa, or racial tensions and moronic national politics in the U.S., there’s just no room for small dreams; especially those that once filled my comfort-zone. So I don’t know about you but in 2012, I’m dreaming bigger even if my dreams are strange.
So That's Life?
All Your Dreams Are Strange
04/12/2012When I was a teenager, my parents gave me a stereo one Christmas. It had a turntable, AM/FM radio, separate (stereo!) speakers, and (believe it or not) an 8-track player. How or why they decided on 8-track is beyond me because the only thing we had in the house was cassettes. They included Elton John’s Greatest Hits and, to my amazement, the unit could record and I also got a blank tape. Being at an impressionable age, I somehow managed to record Monty Python’s Live at City Center which very likely explains my sometimes strange sense of humor. There’s nothing like having the “Crunchy Frog” skit on permanent loop to bring out the “best” in teenage wit.
As it turns out, those were the only two tapes I ever owned. Mercifully, the 8-track fad passed into oblivion but the mental imprint of repeatedly listening to those two tapes will be with me forever. Very much like the 10 song playlist in my iPod.
Time has a funny way of clarifying things. As we get older, what once seemed incredibly important now looks absolutely mundane. When I was listening to those tapes, it was very important to learn all the words to the songs and skits. OK, I’ll admit to being guilty as most regarding lyrics in Rocket Man but that didn’t stop me from trying. And, while I still pride myself on being able to recite some of these from memory, the idea of acquiring additions to my repertoire isn’t even on my top-30 list of things to do..
I’d like to blame my situation on the 24×7 news-cycle or the internet but the truth is I think my gray-matter has reached a critical mass. Given the combustible crucible of cultural/religious intolerance of the Middle East, genocidal atrocities in eastern Africa, or racial tensions and moronic national politics in the U.S., there’s just no room for small dreams; especially those that once filled my comfort-zone. So I don’t know about you but in 2012, I’m dreaming bigger even if my dreams are strange.
Posted in commentary | Leave a Comment »