Ever notice how the cursor on a computer, or the turn signal in your car (or its windshield wipers--except in Eddie Rabbit songs )... ever notice how they never quite seem to match the beat of the song playing? You'll be fooled for a few seconds-- hey, they're in sync! --but then it gradually moves out of phase.
It's laundry night, and I found another treasure in the laundry room of my apartment building: an ad for the 1984 Chrysler New Yorker in the March 1984 issue of Architectural Digest . Check out Ricardo Montalbán ! I remember these cars. There was an electronic voice alert that would tell you "the door is ajar" and other things the driver of a car should already have an innate awareness of. The seats — whether they were upholstered in velour or "rich leather" — were extremely soft and cushioned like a sofa. In the eleventh grade, my friend Barb and I bombed around one snowy winter night in her mom's New Yorker. More on that later.
The part of Canada I grew up in (mentioned in a post from February ) was pretty remote. Dealing with my sexuality in such a setting was awful in the 1980s, and I'm sure it's not much easier now. But in 1986 (when I was 16), I had a voice coming through my radio that gave me hope and made me feel slightly less alone. That voice belonged to Phyllis Levy , who hosted a show on WLS 890 out of Chicago called Sex Talk . I could receive WLS fairly reliably at night, despite the fact that Chicago was about 1050 km / 650 miles away (SSE, as the crow flies). It was AM radio, and I would keep it on low volume in my room. Phyllis Levy had the kindest voice, and a great sense of humour. I remember laughing when, discussing penile desensitization (from excessive friction), she exclaimed, "omigod, you guys! Be careful out there !" I would give anything to hear her voice again. I wasn't able to Google up much on her... so Phyllis, this one's for you.
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"I'm firm believer in the philosophy of a ruling class, especially since I rule." -- Randall