Quadraphonic Time Machine

I sometimes get parts 36 years in advance. Naw that's normal for me.

I hit the pause button for the last couple weeks to work on the house- it was supposed to be a 2-day project, but with my house that can quickly spin into a 2-week or even 2-month odyssey, but that's a different set of stories for a different blog. So I was also doing some rearranging, reorganizing, and moving to improve the ease-of-use factors in my workspaces, because that's something that can get out of hand in a hurry if you don't stay on top of shit.

My effort ancillarily produced this fine, fine, damn-near-new Pioneer 8-track car stereo with volume to "11". Not only is it nostalgia-neat, but there's a story that goes with it that I wanted to share.

When I was 11 or thereabouts, my Mom was cleaning out the attic at our house in Lombard, I was helping. Well, I was helping the way I usually do in those sorts of situations: I was supposed to be moving boxes out, but there was so much neat stuff that I couldn't help opening every box and twiddling with everything. In one box, I pulled out a Pioneer 8-track car stereo, still in the box. At the time, I actually had some 8-tracks in my room since Mom had given me a Sears stereo for Christmas which came complete with an 8-track player (with deluxe auto-reverse!). Since I was certain this technology would quake the future of music playback as we knew it, I went right to town buying up 8-tracks, AC/DC, Rush, Boston, Yes. "We should install this in the car!", I yelled down the stairs. Mom paused to focus on my outstretched hand and said, "What? Oh, no, that was your uncle's I think. Just put that thing downstairs with everything else. You don't want that." But I totally did. I tried to prevail. "Can I keep it? I'll install it my car someday if you don't want it." After much cajoling, just to keep me from losing focus all afternoon she shot out a compromise, "You can have that player if you stop rooting through everything so we can finish, ok?" Deal-e-o!  Being 11, I put it in a box with other treasures, and kind of forgot about it. By the time I was cruising the streets of Lombard, I rationalized since I had 4 cases full of casette tapes and only ten 8-tracks, even neat as I still thought it was, it made no sense to go to the trouble. Plus, my badass 1980 Cutlass was way too modern for such anachronistic weirdness. But I still packed it away again carefully with other mementos. When Mom sold the house on Maple street in 2003, she brought me some of my old things, including the treasure box. I put it in my attic. I moved in 2010 and put the box in storage. Last week I was trying to clean out storage but still mostly rummaging through and farting around with stuff that had faded from memory, now brand new. I found it, still waiting to be installed by an 11-year-old, in a pile of poorly labeled, slightly musty mystery boxes. When I pulled it out to behold it, still shiny, 5-pin DIN plug ready to interface, I knew exactly what needed to happen. It'll look and sound perfect in the Mustang. See Mom? Told you! Just takes some time.