Okay, damn. I need that radio! What a beautiful artifact. It’s perfectly clunky.
I like to think of old things like this as conduits, so in my mind you’re definitely conjuring grandpa.
I can tell he was kinda digging the blips of Taylor Swift. Do you know what kind of music he liked at all?
This immediately made me think of my home and grandparents.
I grew up and live in a home of music. It exists on two levels:
Upstairs, my grandpa plays his vinyl records (mostly Mexican singers/Mariachi) out loud. And I do mean L-O-U-D. Because his hearing sucks.
I know I am my grandpa’s granddaughter because sometimes when he’s listening to his music, I’ll pop in, and catch him laying on his back in bed, with his hands under his neck, staring at the ceiling, crooning and daydreaming like a teenager.
Downstairs, the radio, some Spanish station, is turned on also out L-O-U-D the moment my grandma enters the kitchen first thing in the morning. This is every single day, always. The radio stays on essentially all day until the evening when she watches TV. So throughout the day, she’s in there singing and sometimes dancing while she’s doing her things. She doesn’t like it when anyone turns it off, quiets it, or anything, even if she’s outside.
So literally descending down my stairs, I can catch that transition of music from grandpa to grandma. I have a stereo/radio I got when I was a child that is beside me and I still use it, so occasionally I’ll listen to some college radio station on that.
I loved this :)
Actually, I think I have more thoughts about this, I'll need to think on them.
This would make an amazing short story or even a book. Just to document all the ways your life and perspective and plant life : ) change over the course of listening to nothing but this for a year. What a beautiful connection point to your grandfather.
Okay, damn. I need that radio! What a beautiful artifact. It’s perfectly clunky.
I like to think of old things like this as conduits, so in my mind you’re definitely conjuring grandpa.
I can tell he was kinda digging the blips of Taylor Swift. Do you know what kind of music he liked at all?
This immediately made me think of my home and grandparents.
I grew up and live in a home of music. It exists on two levels:
Upstairs, my grandpa plays his vinyl records (mostly Mexican singers/Mariachi) out loud. And I do mean L-O-U-D. Because his hearing sucks.
I know I am my grandpa’s granddaughter because sometimes when he’s listening to his music, I’ll pop in, and catch him laying on his back in bed, with his hands under his neck, staring at the ceiling, crooning and daydreaming like a teenager.
Downstairs, the radio, some Spanish station, is turned on also out L-O-U-D the moment my grandma enters the kitchen first thing in the morning. This is every single day, always. The radio stays on essentially all day until the evening when she watches TV. So throughout the day, she’s in there singing and sometimes dancing while she’s doing her things. She doesn’t like it when anyone turns it off, quiets it, or anything, even if she’s outside.
So literally descending down my stairs, I can catch that transition of music from grandpa to grandma. I have a stereo/radio I got when I was a child that is beside me and I still use it, so occasionally I’ll listen to some college radio station on that.
I loved this :)
Actually, I think I have more thoughts about this, I'll need to think on them.
This would make an amazing short story or even a book. Just to document all the ways your life and perspective and plant life : ) change over the course of listening to nothing but this for a year. What a beautiful connection point to your grandfather.