Out of the ghetto, and ghettoblasters

[hfaltermeyer]

So, I grew up in a place, where at the age of 6 - my friends smoked cigarette butts off of the sidewalk. Some of them had holes in the wall of their living room, the ragged ring of plaster crusted with blood, and little bits of hair sticking out. Others had designs or writing on the wall, in big streaks of human excrement.

I think of this now, only because I loved the music.

One of my fond early memories, is creeping up to somebody's house, sticking my ear up to a ragged screen door - and listening. There was a robot voice inside, telling everybody to "Dance now", or "Get out on the floor, baby." I didn't know it was a vocoder at the time, I only knew I was going to get my ass kicked if they found me leaning against that scratchy metal meshing of a door. And that there was no way I was leaving.

I was the only white kid for miles. Or, I thought I was - turned out there was another little boy who lived right behind my house across the alley. But generally speaking, if I walked down to the corner store to buy gum for a penny, I'd end up hurt. So I went out in my neighborhood, but only if I had a purpose, or if I was riding my bigwheel.


Fast forward a couple of decades. There is a good chance that I love the boombox, because I saw them in people's houses where I knew it wasn't conducive to my survival to touch them, or saw them lighting up their green/red/orange lights in little bodega stores, where they were a symbol of the people who stole from my dad's garage or threatened him with butterfly knives at 2am. And that being said..

I love the boombox.

 

[redbenjoe]

where from ?
then and now?

 

[Fatdog]

Thanks for sharing your intro with us.

And...

the boombox loves you.

 

[hfaltermeyer]

Thanks, Fatdog.

And redbenjoe, this was all when I was a kid in Indianapolis, in the 80s. Yeah, Indiana, of all places - my grandma had a farmhouse out in the corn, and my parents found the nastiest neighborhood you could find in a city until you get to Cabrini Green.

I went back there a few years ago, and it looks like it's changed. Not so much mean, as just desolate. There's still no grass in front of anybody's house, just dirt lawns, and the bark is still missing off of the first 4 feet of most trees (kids used to peel it off, just to destroy something) - but the whole street just looks empty now. No people, a few cars up on bricks, a bunch of stuff boarded up.

Now I'm in Seattle, and it gives me a chuckle anytime somebody talks about a "bad neighborhood" out here. It's a gentle, beautiful city. And you won't find bulletproof glass at any of the fried chicken places.

 

[propguy]

I like this

 

[Strānj-Bōōmbŏks]

And you won't find bulletproof glass at any of the fried chicken places.

Reminds me of when I used to go to Oakland to see a concert at the Coliseum and then afterwards grab me some Kentucky Fried... Also reminds me of East Palo Alto, the other side of the bridge, both pretty tough neighborhoods relatively close to where I used to live.

 

[Jboogie2384]

Well don't come to New York or else you'll get your feelings hurt! Where bullet proof glass are a must in all the greasy spoons of a fried chicken place. Where the Asians talk better Spanish than me and would still kick your ass like Bruce! It's still like that in some places. But it's coming up gradually. Great story tho! I got Big Wheel jacked up the block when I was younger. I got it back when my dad called me a pansy and ordered me to regain my courage back to get my big wheel.

 

[walkgirl]

Hello