The Silence of My Youth Essay

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The Silence of My Youth Picture, if you will, a rambunctious kid in an unadulterated household. That was me. My parents, as many parents do, spent most of their time working through the better part of my younger years, and often left me to fend for myself. When they were home, they were tired. So tired, in fact, that they began trying new ways to keep me entertained, so as not to be completely drained by my “youthful exuberance”. They knew even then that the best way to get rid of me was to throw me a fist full of dollars, and turn me loose. And wouldn’t you know, I had already found where to get the most “bang for my buck”. On any given Saturday, from the time I was 8 years old until about the time I was old enough to move out of my parent’s house, I could be found at Spider’s Pool Hall. Rain or shine. Lots of kids went there. Many of us were still too short to even play pool, but would find consolation in arcade games. Or maybe they’d go for something hot off the griddle. These things, even in combinations, were really not what kept me coming back. I went for the jukebox. I remember standing there in the corner of the place, all glossy-eyed in the bubbling neon rainbow of that old ‘56 Wurlitzer. My index finger gliding along the illuminated dial, and making a selection, while gazing in amazement at that beautiful machine as it did it’s magic. In one fluid movement, the streamline arm would lift and slide over the lip. The table began to turn as the stylus spiraled into it’s groove. A drone of subtle static loomed through the air before a note of music was ever heard. This was the silence of my youth. For the first time, I had found something to hold my attention. It was Rock’n’Roll the way it was originally intended, and it was teaching me many new things. Those tunes were first class rebellion at it’s finest. With

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