the gravity of the needle drop
always fascinated me
never more so when my father
bought my mother
a pair of 45 RPM singles
as a parting gift upon their divorce
“too much too little too late” by deniece williams
& johnny mathis, and “count on me” by jefferson starship.
I remember thinking, “did he miss the mixed message?”
i would play these records over and over
looking for hidden clues
as to why I was even looking to begin with. I kept searching
for my father’s voice in the words, but the maudlin lyrics made
me loathe him beyond the obvious.
my mother didn’t like records, or music as entertainment.
one day, when the whole family
was to spend some quality time spring cleaning,
i put on an 8 track of the Beatles, thinking I would see my mother
pep up to the catchy beat of her one favorite band. when I went in to
the kitchen to catch a glimpse of her at the height of domestic bliss,
she just asked to me to turn it down.
I had been unwittingly let in to a secret world
where communication is a currency all its own