Old Tape Recorder

Sometimes that antiquities bring about the deepest response in people.

            “What the heck is this?”

            “A tape recorder.”

“Where did you even find this?”

            “In my grandfather’s attic.”

            “Well does it work?”

            “It should.” He plugged it in and began to flip a few switches and turn a few dials.

            The recorder’s tape began to spin and a small red light lite up.

            “This is a test recording.” He pressed stop, then rewound the tape.

            He pressed play and they both listened to the scratchy crackle that played with his voice.

            “This is a test recording.”

            He pressed stop again with a smile.

            “So what else is on this tape?”

            “Nothing, my grandfather had just bought the tape and never used it.”

            “How long does it last?”

            “It’s supposed to be about 3 hours.”

            “So what are you going to do with it?”

            “Record something.”

            “Why not just use your laptop or a voice recorder? They do make digital recorders you know.”

            He shot him a flat expression, “and what fun would that be? Doesn’t this have more of a mysterious, aged feel to it? Just like sepia.”

            “Uh-huh, and how is anyone supposed to listen to it?”

            “Well of course we will need to make a digital version of it, but I am a man of antiquated technology and methodologies. That’s why I still prefer to write in longhand.”

            “Whatever, so what are you going to record?”

            “How about, what you are going to record?”

            “Don’t look at me, I don’t have anything worth saving.”

            “Oh come on Dev, how about a time capsule for your children?”

            “Steve I don’t have kids.”

            “Yet.” He gave a snickering grin. “Come on, just leave something behind for someone to one day find. Just a message.”

            “Meh.” He crossed his arms in an invalid protest.

            Steve looked to him and pressed the record button. “Start with your name.”

            He released a deep sigh. “My name is Dev, I turn twenty in one month. I am recording this on the oldest piece of working voice recording machine that Steve, my adopted brother dug out of his grandfather’s attic.”

            “What year is it?”

            “2012, September 11^th. It’s awesomely cool outside, roughly 72 degrees Fahrenheit, in case anyone listening to this uses the metric system.”  

            Steve laughed at the comment. “So what would you like to tell everyone about the time period? Any advice or words of wisdom?”

            “Well everything sucks, gas is almost four dollars a gallon, traffic is always backed up for pointless reasons, everything cost too much, and no one makes enough money to live off of.

            “But I enjoy it all.”

            “Why do you enjoy it?”

            “Family. No matter how far society and the world goes down the drain, I always have my family. I still have both of my parents, and while I don’t have any blood siblings, Steve here is the brother that my mother never had. Between them and all the aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents I’m always around someone.

            “And to me, family is all that you really need in this world.”