Category: memories

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Stuff I Like: Ode to the Cassette Tape

This week in Showing My Age, I want to pay homage to a lost treasure of my youth: the cassette tape. In the modern world of MP3s and streaming, there are paradoxically both more and fewer ways to interact with music, especially as professionally (and probably simultaneously commercially) curated playlists and the ubiquitous “Shuffle” function come to dominate music consumption. But in my day – cue wagging wrinkled finger and old lady sneer – you had to really want to have that music on demand. And the cassette tape was really the only way to go about it.

For those who are unaware (dear god I am feeling older by the second), cassette tapes were seemingly insubstantial rectangles of plastic containing magical magnetic tape that was able to play back music on fabulous devices variously known as boomboxes, Walkmen, or, less creatively, tape players. In the same way that albums are sold in MP3 format on Amazon or iTunes today, which is itself becoming borderline anachronistic in the age of Spotify and Apple Music, or that CDs were sold a couple decades ago, back in the 80s and early 90s they were packaged for the public on cassette tape. But these were no mere passive devices through which to listen to music – oh no. They were much more than that. Continue reading “Stuff I Like: Ode to the Cassette Tape”

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Let Me See That Tootsie Roll

the faces have been hidden to protect the innocent

I went to the best middle school, like, ever. It was a GATE (gifted and talented education) school named Computech, and all the students there had to be accepted based on academic merit. I suspect there was a cultural/racial component to the admissions process as well, because it was a pretty diverse school located in a predominantly black part of town. This seeming duality – because in America “good school” and “black neighborhood” are not seen as naturally coexisting – gave the school an awesome character and a not-so-awesome reputation.

The perception of the school within the community was abundantly clear when I was asked, on more than one occasion, whether or not I had been “in a drive-by” while on campus. The people who asked this – because they weren’t just kids, either – always professed to have heard some story or other about kids in PE class having to “hit the ground” because of passing gunfire. This was patently ridiculous, as even the security guards who worked at the school were adamant that it was one of the safest in the city, but this impression of the school as a dangerous one persisted nonetheless. Continue reading “Let Me See That Tootsie Roll”

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My Brother’s Keeper

I didn’t want my brother. That sounds kinda harsh, but it’s the truth. I was almost ten when he was born, my sister was almost five, and I felt like our family had plenty of people in it already. I’m not sure why I felt that way, but I was none too enthusiastic about his imminent arrival.

I was invested enough in the idea of him that I tortured my mom in her search for a name for him. She knew his middle name would be Michael, after her youngest brother, but we battled for months over whether his first name would be John (her choice) or David (mine). John was a fine name in the abstract, but I was adamant that “John Michael” sounded like a male model and that was simply unacceptable. In the end, she gave in and I got to pick his name. We all agree now that it was the right call. (You’re welcome.) Continue reading “My Brother’s Keeper”

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Stuff I Like: Maurice Cheeks

Sports have always been a big part of my life, but I got all the way caught up around 4th grade, when I fell head over heels for basketball. I played it at every opportunity and watched every game I had access to. I bought used copies of old basketball-themed VHS tapes from the local rental shop and watched retrospectives on teams and players I loved. I had one that recounted the story of the Lakers in the 80s called “The Drive For Five” about their incredible run of championships during that decade. I had another one called “Michael Jordan’s Playground,” a movie which was essentially an MJ highlight reel book-ended by a cheesy story of a boy being cut from his high school basketball team. I remember watching this one with my sister while eating elbow noodles with parmesan cheese. When she got mad at me for brushing my crumbs onto her lap, she yelled, “You’re getting that on my nerves!” Dork. Continue reading “Stuff I Like: Maurice Cheeks”