Strange memories of music

I was checking out some music on iTunes, when I had something of a flashback. If you are old enough, you remember the Walkman (and the Walkman copycats). This device made the audio cassette tape the king of formats in the 1980s. The availability of dual cassette decks on boom boxes and home stereos enabled people to make mix tapes. But what I suddenly remembered while checking out some new music was the smell. The smell of a brand new cassette tape from a band, maybe a new band, maybe an old favorite. After taking off the stupid plastic wrapper, you would open the plastic jewel case and take out the cassette. I remember that smell and then I remember dropping the cassette into my Walkman and listening to the album for the first time, while reading the album insert with all of the lyrics and other nonsense from front to back.

Weird the way memory works somedays.

Veteran's Day Poem

In keeping with my grim tradition, I give you another poem about war, this one courtesy of Carl Sandburg. Oh, and Happy Birthday to all you Marines out there. Semper Fi.

Grass by Carl Sandburg (1918)

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.

Shovel them under and let me work—

I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg

And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.

Shovel them under and let me work.

Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:

What place is this?

Where are we now?

I am the grass.

Let me work.