THERE'S A reason why I fancy tape recorders. I'll be forever grateful
to Akio Morita for this. I happen to own one and for the life of
me I enjoyed every moment using it. More so when I get to have a
small TV/VHS set where ultimately you get to record your favored
show until you probably get tired of it, you'd tape it over with
something else. You'd understand; blank tapes are costly nowadays,
but not much.
Unfortunately the same thing can be told with love; at least unrequited
ones.
For people with weak hearts and constitution in the "game"
now's the time to stop reading. On my part I do have both and I'm
just as queasy as to neither swim nor play billiards at all. It
may begin as early as the first time both my eyes and the object
of my affection met, as she mistook me for a hunched geek who smiles
a lot. (That I admit, thank you.) Followed by passing glances along
the road every now and then along civic streets and teeny-bopper
bars. Weeks later we’d find ourselves sitting at an office
lounge. Days went by and then suddenly, unknowingly, meteors and
comets would soon hurl until all the planets around us come into
play for both our sake. Everything seems to go pretty well until
both our worlds collide. Fusion occurred, messages transmitted and
confirmed, then cosmic union; and it's in pretty good view from
the telescope. We both shared it, and how it was undeniably lovely.
The next day after that heavenly fusion I picked up the phone,
called her and smiled as we both transmit and confirm each other’s
alien message. Suddenly her team claimed that the newly-discovered
world was a hoax; the cosmic union quashed, devoid of theories and
applications, and that further research should stop at once. Crushed,
I argued why something definite, real, and conclusive that night
should be disregarded. Her team insisted. She confirms that it wasn't.
Logic tells me that she's so wrong.
Unfortunately her science is different from mine. She and her team
wins.
I lost.
When it was learned that cassette and video tapes lose quality
if taken carelessly by either neglect or constant use due to over-recording,
its marketability became questionable. However it is the use for
such, its value and reliability proved to be
indispensable and essential even in today's CD-driven world. It
should also be noted that in due time it will cease to exist. When
that happens, "love" in a more proverbial sense –
as we see, hear, and feel for the past fifty years – will never
be the same again. First it was vinyl, then 8-tracks, and now tape.
Change is inevitable. The digital world is upon us. This means thicker,
more durable plastic. Longer life span. Lasting scars. Longer-playing
life.
Not as fragile as paper-thin ones, I see.
In my estimation both love and life fall into the same category
though in a very different perspective, and it has to be. Be it
vinyl, tape, or disc, one thing remains true: love endures, period.
It's not the kind of material used, rather it's the "way"
it's often always used. Unrequited, lost, false love can easily
be compared to a cassette tape being used over and over and over
for countless times; so often it would either break up or hit the
spool, causing the recorder to cease from either recording or playing.
So were the gears, screws and motors... our heart, mind, and body.
So was the tape which was often used... our life and our true love.
So was the music which was embedded deep within the tape… our
very own soul.
Nevertheless, those worlds alone are definite, real... conclusive.
Regardless of media.
Perhaps the whole world will ‘listen closely’ towards
love and life in a more clear perspective; richer and finer than
with all the cassette, video tapes and discs on earth combined.
When that happens, I'll be forever grateful with the world and the
people which hold all of us. For now I'm pretty much okay with how
I do with my TV/VHS unit; for I always get to record shows which
I really seem to like; EP recording, of course. When the tape reaches
its end I get to break the tab for posterity, never to be taped
over again. I then look for a fresh new one to record on. If I ran
out of blank tapes I get a new one from the store, even under a
tight budget. I’ve finally learned my lesson. Life goes on,
and everyone's happy.
On another note a friend of mine earlier said that "Laws are
made to be broken." You know what? He's right, he's so right.
Then again I said to myself, "Well, just make sure that breaking
it often won't go as far as breaking-down a couple of gears and
motors…"
