Some things are not like riding a bike. Or maybe riding a bike after not having done so for a couple of years is not as easy as everyone says. Either way, I was quite embarrassed today when my editor handed me a cassette tape and a tape player and told me to listen to a recording because I could not for the life of me figure out how to do it.
My first few attempts made the recording sound as if the poor people coming through the speakers were slowly talking underwater. The others made them sound as if they were talking through helium. After that, I was afraid to try anything else because I didn’t want to break the delicate ribbon inside the cassette.
The funny thing is, I had a cassette player when I was younger. I should have remembered how to do this. Somewhere in the crevices of my mind the information should have been stored, along with how to use a CD player and how to use a typewriter (I was, after all, the last one in my high school class to switch over to a computer).
In the end, I had to ask for help. Daydreaming about legwarmers and plastic charm necklaces would do me no good. My recollection for 1980s technology was lost.
But that’s okay. Other things have taken its place. And when I need help, I know I have people to count on. I think that’s what makes life so great. We’re all unique, with different skills—and sure, from different decades, too. But life would be so boring if we were all the same.