A cassette tape.
Our landlord informed us today through our real estate agent, that the boxes in our parking spot cannot stay there as they had complaints from the building. Funny how hearing this really had a powerful influence over my activity for the evening.
What is that you ask? Going through the boxes and working out what I should really throw out. This just led to being distracted by every single item I pulled out of the box. After fifteen minutes I look around and see I have simply dispersed all the stuff around the room.
What I mainly became excited about was a small pile of cassette tapes. I havent had a chance to listen to any of them in years as, like most people, I havent owned a cassette player since 1999. One of my favourites that I decided to keep was a tape that was used over and over again in a small handheld recording device that was manufactured based on the Home Alone series. See exhibit A:
I was OBSESSED with this toy and I spent the evening listening through the tape, both sides. It was from 1995, and I was 11. From interviewing anyone around me and asking dull questions like, “What are you doing?”, recording an Indian radio station sped up so it sounded like chipmunks (hil-ar-i-ous) and sneakily recording my brother on the phone. Oh I was cunning. I am thankful to myself for being forward thinking and selecting it out of the few tapes I still have.
One of my favourite moments is when I interview my grandma. These days, my grandma is far along with dementia and also has had a stroke, so it is rare to have a conversation with her. Hearing my 11 year old self chat to her, even though it was basic small talk, made me grin.
The most cringe worthy moment of the entire tape was when I thought it would be a great idea to record myself sing. Back then I was convinced I was going to have a singing career. UNTIL tonight I thought I was an awesome singer until I hit puberty. Tonight, I realised I was not good. Not even kind of good. My pitch was constantly off and I seemed to be a massive fan of key changes, twenty times in the one song, usually mid sentence. That did take skill, so I may be wrong.
And one small clip, that I have include in this, is my sister. She secretly stole my Talkboy and recorded the following:
My parking spot is still full of boxes, yet I spent four hours listening to cassette tapes and swimming in those memories. Thanks Landlord.
