THE SECRET HISTORY OF POP CESSPOOL, VOL. 8

My immediate neighborhood had a lot of old people and very few school-age children. There was me; my brother; a kid who would've been diagnosed with severe ADHD in today's world; and a boy with sketchy parents and a knack for petty crime. As a result, my brother and I spent a lot of time on our bikes, riding to other neighborhoods -- when we weren't jumping in and out of our above-ground pool like maniacs. The pool could be the loudest spot around, but it also could be the most inconspicuous. More on that in a minute.

Although there was a shortage of tykes, our block did have two households with high-school girls. They were social, but generally low-key; if they partied, it most often was elsewhere. (Probably because of all the old people in the vicinity. Some of those geezers had itchy trigger-fingers when it came to calling the police.) But occasionally, one girl's parents would throw a big bash. Once they hired a country/rock cover band. There almost always were people on Harleys. My family never attended. It's complicated.

Anyway, one party really sticks in my mind because it was obviously the girl's birthday, and the family rented a really loud jukebox. It wasn't a stodgy thing, either: If I remember correctly, it was the summer of '83, and that thing was stocked with Men At Work, the Greg Kihn Band, "Der Kommissar," Eddy Grant, "The Safety Dance" -- y'know, basically everything that was important to a pubescent, awkward, pause-tape-making,* Billboard-chart-watching nerd like me. (By 1984, I'd made the transition to weightier fare like Purple Rain, The Unforgettable Fire and, uh, 1984. Hip-hop, college rock and heavier metal were totally 1985.)

Anyway, I distinctly remember being relatively alone that evening. One parent was probably out with my brother. The other was probably doing something around the house. I was alone outside on the patio -- where I could be seen -- when I realized that this glorious cheese-pop onslaught was not coming from an FM station, but from some other, more selective source. Instead of crossing the lawn, saying hello, grabbing a soda and joining the party, I did the only sensible thing: I slipped into the pool, where I could sit with my head above the water but below the rim. Unseen, I mentally catalogued the hits until the sun started to go down. When it was darker, I climbed out and went inside.

(read the complete and ongoing Secret History here)

*pause tape: A cassette of songs made by listening to FM radio on a boombox and pressing "Record" whenever a prized tune is being broadcast. "Pause tape" nostalgia is particularly strong in hip-hop. But the technique also was ubiquitous in my white-and-suburban social circles during middle school.