low tech, high satisfaction

I'm a child of the '60s, so of course when the Sony company marketed its "Walkman" in the late '70s, it was perfect timing for me. Off to college, you know? Independent, portable life. I can't tell you how many walks I took with mine -- my favorite tunes on tape, or the radio option for the news of the day. No doubt I fast-walked to monotonous updates on the Iran-Contra "affair" (the whole miserable, covert operation and judicial proceedings swallowed 10 years of history). More than a few "Car Talk" episodes, and the culture-shattering rise of the home-based computer.

Just recently I was caught with a set of audio tapes of Marguerite Henry's 1953 book, Brighty of the Grand Canyon. By the time our family spring break was ending, no one else wanted to listen. We'd managed Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island (1883), and C.S. Lewis' Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952), and a contemporary diversion about a kid from a disfunctional family who needs his meds to stay focused on the simple tasks of daily living (Joey Pigza Loses Control, by Jack Gantos, 2001).

After a few brief attempts to play Brighty in the final hours of our long drive back, I gave up trying to convince the others. The following Monday, I dragged out the old "boom box" cd/audio cassette player from one of the kids' rooms and plugged it in. Pushed a few buttons, flipped the tape, nothing happened. I was psyched for some serious bagging, boxing and moving stuff out and I needed a tape player; Brighty was waiting. Suddenly I remembered ye old Walkman, tucked away in my active togs drawer, behind the sweats and the sports bras. Ah! But the plastic waistband clip was long gone and, given the weight of the thing, I had to find a way to carry it.

My fortuitous outfit for this day of dedicated domestic cleansing was jeans and a white t-shirt under a flannel shirt (think, 50s, 70s or 2010, it's all how you look at it.) Knot up the flannel shirt tails, button a few up from the knot, and I had the perfect Walkman hammock. I was ready. More than one task got accomplished that afternoon and I only had to stop from time to time to sip a little seltzer and "fast forward to the end of each tape before turning it over to side B". Dear Marguerite created an engaging, if a little long, story of sincerity and simple living in the old western frontier. Between an early murder based on greed for a sweet, old prospector's mine and the book's bad man finally will get punished ending, Brighty lived a life of wild burro freedom to come and go as he pleased, while chumming up from time to time with kindly settlers and even President Teddy Roosevelt. Themes were solidly based in the culture of the late 19th century: resource extraction, a full-time lion killer hired by the government, the domination of once-unreachable natural places. It's all the stuff of serious adventure to young kids shortly after World War II. 

Professional audio drama, history, cultural commentary, and a serious dent in the domestic stuff-pile, all in one day! Can you do that with your Kindle? Just asking.

Tidbits I gleaned:

• A portable personal stereo audio cassette player, called Stereobelt, was first invented by the German-Brazilian Andreas Pavel in 1972. (Wikipedia) You can guess that the Sony company fought his claims to rights for a good long while, too, with several millions of dollars in the pot to shush him up. 
• Sony stopped making the audio cassette Walkman last fall, except for a small allowance for die-hards in China. A number of newsy blogs can be found on the subject, including Liz Goodwin's at http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101025/tc_yblog_upshot/sony-walkman-rip 
• If you've got an extra 20 minutes (!) to skim this morbid outline, CNN has a timeline of the Reagan/North/Bush operation in Nicargua and Iran: http://www.ibiblio.org/sullivan/CNN/RWR/ps174/icontra/ictimtxt.htm