 My 1971 Fisher Price Player! What is that saying again? “Boredom is the mother of invention?” Actually, I don’t know the saying exactly, but I am sure my parents believed it. Yep, I can just picture them wringing their hands with a silent sinister laugh while devising our house rules. “All TV watching must be selected and reviewed by the residing judges, never to exceed 2 hours.” “Tee hee hee, let’s see what they do with that…” Mostly, we HAD to think, come up with stuff to do. Thankfully there was some kindling around to spark invention: Legos, secondhand Barbies, Wooden blocks, marbles, piles of scrap paper, Crayola 64 packs– every shade! Ed Emberly “How to Draw” books, records, radio. This was in the 1970s. No streaming. Before CD players! Ancient torture, right!? A clock or car radio narrated life as we plodded along: Packing up to walk to school, riding in the sky-blue Chevy station wagon to piano lessons or the dentist, and so on. Classical or Pop music, News, etc. My family used few words. But the DJs and announcers chattered on. My childhood brain saw someone in a little soundproof box nearby. That must have been it. Hearing news proclamations felt prickly, heavier than my pudgy-kid arms could carry: US leaders, Panama Canal, gas prices, that kinda stuff. But, the music DJs sounded excited, hopeful, giving. They drew me toward another place, someplace connected. On a Saturday afternoon, at 6 years old, it was serene at our house. I heard the Clink clank dribble, of the radiators under the front picture windows trying to fight the crisp 10-degree temps of winter. Mom was reclining, golf commentary from the little black and white TV lulling her to sleep. Sister was in her room sprawled out on her belly, sketching. Brother was behind closed doors, lights off, voice of John Lennon barely audible. Dad had taken the bus to the University to grade exams. Little Lynn did not want to interrupt, so she accepted her fate: No one would rescue me from boredom. It was up to me. Retreating to my room, the white-painted closet door caught my eye. “Hey, come here Lynn,” it invited. “Well--O. Kay. Why not?” Peeking in, it hit me like a Minnesotan blizzard-This could be my fort, MY spot. My DOMAIN! With a sliding of hangers, shoving of shoeboxes, and a tiny red chair, Voila! A new land was born! “OK now, What should I bring? “ “Hmmm, My Holly Hobby Treehouse?” “Naw, I like playing that out on this psychadelic shag carpeting. After all, Sister joins sometimes.” Hmmmm. What else is there? “ “My flashlight?” “Yes, indeed, good idea…you’re getting somewhere now…” Flashlight in hand, I turned, and the heavens opened. “Aaaaaahhh” sang an invisible choir. Rays of light shone down on-drum roll please-the Fischer Price Record Player. Yes, that’s it. That thing is so cool. “LET’S GO!” My energetic-self waved my bored-self in. And in a split second that closet became the hippest, most “happenin’” radio station known to man. This chick became a star-quality DJ. DJ extraordinaire shined the flashlight on the red, yellow, and cream-colored beauty. The battery-end of the flashlight became a famous radio broadcast microphone. “Hey folks, welcome to Top Dog Radio! Where dreams come true!” Musical interlude here. “Together, we can ROCK this WORLD!” “And now, time for a commercial break..." This was my prep time. I turned the hard plastic base forward to reveal the handy slot in back, examined my musical repertoire. Pastel lavender, mint green, bright orange, and blue disks had one song on each side. Each disk felt powerful in this scenario. Possibilities. (Yes they were nursery rhymes played by music box tines in real life. But to me, they were top hits!) Now with magical childhood imagination and hope at full throttle, I began to take calls from my listeners. I was SO popular man! I needed an assistant to field the calls. One fan was crying, “My friend left,” cried a young teen. “I have nobody!” DJ knew just what to say: “Hey there, it may be a dark day outside, but you will find a new friend. I bet you are great friend to have. This song’s for you!” And the song rang out (yes admittedly to the tune of ‘Where oh where has my little dog gone’) but the lyrics were magical: “You are a friend, a best friend, and everyone wants to know you!” From MY channel, MY domain, out to MY LISTENER, this was magic rock n roll. The listener called back in a few minutes to say, “Hey I just made a new best friend! Thanks DJ, you changed my LIFE!” This DJ gig was the life. That afternoon, I secretly saved lots of souls, flooded the world with joy, probably saved the earth too for that matter… Recently, thanks to ebay, I got a real 1971 record player. It’s aged and yellowed, dirt in its grooves, but it still makes music. I think this is like me, weathered and a bit slower to come to it, but I can still imagine. LET’S GO! Lynn Jodeit Ouellette copyright 2025 Photo by Lynn Jodeit Ouellette 2025 | ___Says it better than I can.Modern DJ DJ Fuzion I am sharing this DJ because one of my students said he truly changed her life through his joy & online music shows. |
