Yesterday, my internal boombox– boombox, not mp3 player or ipod (and yes, i realize how incredibly old my mp3 reference makes me)– with its static glory and heaviness kept me going with rumbles of alternative rock from a local frequency.
Today, in my Heartbreak, I popped in an old cassette fished from a drawer of junk and faded memories. Memories that only existed to me through pictures and stories. Those stories, true and others glorified, always dated themselves with a certain car– always a car– and some song that became the soundtrack to a black and white grainy moment.
The cassette clicked in place. The ribbon went from tight to slack and tight again, the slightest awareness of a recording session in the white noise of the tape’s pre-song silence. The drums sounded first, giving a rhythm to my wandering thought. And then his raspy whine reminded me. In my one and only life I can’t allow anyone to belittle me and take advantage of me. I can stand tall and strong .. and hold my ground.
Thanks for the inspiration Tom.