Me and my Walkman
I don’t have great hearing. I blame this on all of my constant Walkman use in the 1980s; the higher the volume, the better. I would drown out the sounds around me — my mom voicing her disappointment in whatever I had done wrong that day, my little brother being annoying, my sister ignoring me — yes, music has the power to drown out any sound or lack thereof. Music is awesome that way. When I am at my most sad or anxious, music has the power to drown the thoughts in my head. I think there is even a song about that.
In any event, fast forward to the summer of 1991. That was one of my very best summers. I was an intern at NBC in New York. I was wearing my Walkman and walking back uptown from 30 Rockefeller Plaza to my aunt and uncle’s apartment on the Upper East Side. They were kind enough to let me sleep over a few times a week, so I wouldn’t have to drive my beautiful brown 1980 Cadillac Sedan DeVille, aka Goober, or take a bus into the city from my home in scenic Fair Lawn.
I was totally engrossed in whatever “tunes” I was listening to on my headphones, and not paying attention to my surroundings, when a man grabbed me by my hair, and, in a not-so-nice-way, asked for my Walkman. I escaped his grasp and ran into the closest store.
Of course, the store I ran into not only had to buzz me in (it was the jewelry district, after all) but had only non-English-speaking people working there. So my attempts to have them call the police fell on deaf ears, and I just waited inside until my breathing returned to normal and I was no longer fearful of whomever had tried to mug me.
The point of this story? I never listened to music while walking after that. The only exception I made, well, until a few weeks ago (yes, there will be another point of this column) was when Son #1 and I ran-walked the Chai Lifeline half marathon. I don’t think I have written about that experience in a while.
The first time we experienced the marathon together was for his bar mitzvah chesed project. We had such a great time that we experienced the marathon again the following year. Yes, I have done a whole marathon. And so has Son #1.
For those of you who have never experienced this, I highly recommend it. Even if you don’t run. The bonding experience with your child is worth the inability to climb stairs or get up and down from a toilet for two to three days. Totally and completely worth it.
Since the marathon is pretty much a closed course, I felt safe enough to wear my headphones, and Son #1 and I even synched up what we were listening to. It was his pre-Oreo days, so the music was more to my liking than what we would be listening to if we did the marathon together now.
That was really the only exception to my no Walkman rule.
And then came the ear pods. Ear pods? Air pods? Who invented these things? My friends had gotten me a pair for my 50th birthday, but I ended up giving them to Son #1 because I was afraid to listen to music while out walking. But then, this past Chanukah, Husband #1 decided to get me another pair, at the behest of Son #3. “Mom would really like them,” he told Husband #1.
Of course I returned them. And then Son #1 gave me back the ones I gave him because he had another pair (possibly Dil #1’s? I am still not clear on that story.) And this brings us to the current day. I have been wearing these ear-air pod thingies. And walking to music again is quite enjoyable, especially with modern technology and the ability to always have a song on that you enjoy.
Back in 1991, I had many different cassette tapes, all by different artists. Each one had only a few songs that I liked and would have to fast forward or rewind to hear the one that I wanted to hear. Ahh, kids these days have it so easy.
And that is all I got for this week. Walk safely y’all!
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is so excited to have Son #3 and Dil #3 back in this country. She also wants to give a shout-out to her favorite cookbook’s author’s Husband #1!
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