Meanwhile… I'm Still Thinking

My father had a great voice and used it all the time to make a little extra money. He sang weddings and funerals, MC’d local events, called Bingo at the reservation and announced at stock car races (among other things).

The first time he was asked to do the races he prepared a tape reel of songs to play in between heats so that he wouldn’t have to think of activities to keep the crowd occupied. I assume he did this at the radio station at night while Yankee games were being broadcast, and it probably took him quite a while. Unfortunately for him, my sister and I considered the at-home reel-to-reel tape deck one of our toys, and any reel of tape floating around the house was fair game.

I remember all too well the show we produced for our parents. We created a musical full of delightful songs about going on the rides at the county fair with assorted nuns. Mother Mary Claire’s name rhymed the best so she was prominently featured, but no nun was left behind.

I’ve been on the receiving end of shows put on by children and they usually consist of 10% content, 90% “No, you weren’t supposed to say that yet”, but our show was scripted, acted and sung efficiently on tape, and our parents seemed to enjoy it until the credits finished and we all heard “dum da dum dum dum dum da da da da dum… I saw yer”. At that precise moment Dad realized that his kids had recorded over his special stock car race mix tape. He didn’t react to it particularly well, and from that point forward taping anything in the house became a permission thing, on pre-approved reels.