On How I Smashed My Smile
When I was about 11 I was the proud owner of my own stereo, no longer my *Dad’s cast off stack system in the corner of the room that was the size of a chair. I finally owned a CD player, which meant I could sneak into my sister’s room and steal The Stone Roses and stop listening to my tape of Hits 5.
As the old stereo ground to a halt (after way too many sessions of me taping the top 40) I became transfixed with how it worked, I wanted to see inside the stereo in the same way a Doctor wants to know the workings of the human body and take a peek inside. So one day I went to my **Dad’s tool box and took out a spanner, with my little brother for company, I started to take the back off and got more frustrated as I could see the panel of coloured wires and circuit board but couldn’t quite get to it. I dug the screw driver deep into the back of the panel and then if flipped up. INTO MY FACE.
The plop was half my front tooth landing in my lap.
What ensued was a very disappointed mother and many many trips to the dentist to try to fix my front tooth. Nothing stuck, whatever they done just kept dropping off. Eventually, after being marched down to the surgery on enough occasions the dentist eventually got it spot on but I wasn’t keen to smile for a while. I can still hear my Mum saying “You’ve bloody ruined your smile”.
Part of me is still a little bit obsessed with demolition. It’s probably a very good thing technology has got smaller and smaller as I have no interest in destroying my iPod, and I’m too emotionally attached to my record player (also needle hits record, music plays. It’s not as mystic).
I do however find myself increasingly intrigued by mixing desks at gigs. Sometimes I end up taking more photos of that than the band I’m seeing. So many dials, lights, knobs! Look at this one, it’s my favourite! If anyone has an old one you can donate it to me, call it an experiment to see if I’ve learnt from my childhood. ♥
*My Dad still insists separate are best even though his stereo is slowly crumbling away. When my Mum suggested upgrading to an iPod and docking station recently he was very defiant and told her to “Leave it alone, it’s the only thing of mine in this house”.
**My Dad also owns the toolbox but he forgot to mention that when he ranted about his one and only possession in the house. Perhaps because I used it more to take things apart than he has ever done to fix things. It’s very rusty and dusty.