Those Were the Days

Sean's class is starting a unit on music. His teacher told the kids that one day, when they're teenagers, they'll flop down on their beds and listen to music in their rooms.

"Well, I used to do that," I said.

"Really?"

"Yep! I'd come home from school and go right to my room to listen to some music. Except I didn't have a CD player."

"What did you listen to, then?"

"It may sound hard to believe, but I didn't have a CD player when I was in highschool. Or an iPod. Or a computer. Or a DVD player..."

"Or even a bed!" Sean interjected.

"Okay, no, I did have a bed. It was only 22 years ago." Does he think I'm so old that I predate beds?

I explained that I listened to music on a record player that was part of a stereo. Which prompted a discussion of what records were, anyhow. And then a field trip to the basement archives, where we examined a real live album.

"So I'd sit in my room, like this," I demonstrated a teenager-like slouching position, "and I'd listen to the first side of album, and I'd read all the lyrics as the music played. I'd get up, flip the record over, and listen to the other side. I'd spend hours doing this."

Sean was kind enough not to comment on the surfeit of free time that I seem to have had as a young teenager. Some day, though it's hard to imagine, he'll be doing the same thing, but most likely on something other than a black disc of vinyl.