Mix This

I was driving this morning when Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me," came on the radio. Not particularly a noteworthy event, even the modern rock stations still play that song. But it made me think about when I received that cassette back when I was in junior high.

It was at Xmas time and my cousin opened up one of his gifts to reveal a copy of "Hysteria" much to his chagrin. "I already HAVE this, mom," he declared. She suggested that he could exchange it for something different when they went back to the record store.

My cousin Paul and I had never had a close relationship. I mean, my family is far closer than most, getting together more often that most of the other families I know. We all live in California, so the trips aren't financially stressful. Plus we all like hanging out with each other.

My point was that I wasn't expecting to see my cousin glance at me across the room, hold up the tape and ask, "Do you have this?" When I shook my head no he tossed the rectangular piece of plastic over at me. "Well, then take this one. It's a good album. I think you'll like it."

I'd looked up to Paul even though we'd regularly tangled growing up. There was something cool about him, this guy who wasn't quite 4 years older than me, had long(ish) hair and played guitar. Not that I would know that he sucked at it at the time. I just thought it was cool that I had a musician for a cousin.

I played that tape he gave me so many times that I eventually wore it out, the brown ribbon tangling around the heads of my Walkman one afternoon about a year later. I still love that album to this day. It conjures up bright memories and dark ones, reminding me of my past in a way that no other stimulant can.

It was also around that time that I started moving from innocent childhood crushes into innocent early teen romances. Cassette tapes were the easiest way to share music at the time. There was no downloading, no file sharing, just a rectangular hunk of plastic that you would hover over while it was in your dual deck, recording music from one format to the other.

In the eighth grade there was this young "metal head" named James who took a fancy to me. Half white, half Mexican with fair skin and a head full of bushy, kinky black hair, I really wasn't all that romantically interested in him. I didn't notice him hanging out at my table at lunch all the time, offering to allow me to borrow his copies of Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls" or Metallica's "Metal Up Your Ass."

James was my buddy, in my mind. That is... until the day that it became clear that he liked me. Again, this was all kicked off with a rectangular hunk of plastic.

A mixed tape. Something that was lovingly crafted full of songs that he thought I'd like. The sticker strips on each side of the tape read "For Zara" in his careful print. If you were to ask me what songs were on that tape, I couldn't tell you. But I CAN tell you that I still have that tape, stored away in a box of memories in my parent's garage while I am still in a residential limbo.

I have every mix tape that was gifted to me by old boyfriends and potential suitors. Some were better constructed than others. You can hear the loud clicking on and off of the stop button in some cases. In others the transition is more smooth, but you can hear when the recordings were from LPs as the songs crackle and pop.

I loved that sound in my headphones when I was a girl. During the more stressful times of my life I would curl up in the foot of my closet, pull down clothes on top of myself and listen to a tape while buried under a pile of my crap. It makes my heart seize just a little right now as I think of those times, usually filled with tears and teenage angst.

I'll never forget James because of that tape. It was the first one that I ever received which had romantic aspirations associated with it. While nothing ever came of that offering (other than me later being gifted with his jean jacket which I infamously altered over the course of the following 12 months. People from my childhood STILL remember what I did with that jacket), it remains one of my fondest memories.

Just like the Xmas when Paul threw that Def Leppard at me.

I don't think that people really make mixed anything for other people anymore. There was a point when people were burning CDs for others, but never with the heart behind them that the cassettes possessed. And now with MP3 players and iPods being the norm, it's more common to share a song through an instant message than it is to get something complete.

There's supposedly a mixed CD out there in this world that was intended for me. I'll never get it, as the heart behind it has since withered and faded. But I think about how it will remain one of the most memorable things in my extended history. Amusing when you take into effect that I've never even heard it.

But then again, I don't remember the songs that James put on that tape either.

It's almost comforting to know that memories will never get worn out like that brown ribbon would.