Expand Magazine - Volume 6 Issue 2

Hot
Air
By Tony Michaels
EXPAND | Give more /43
P
lease don’t read this article and immediately
contact the producers from the tv show
Hoarders. I have a weakness. If you read this space
on a regular basis, you know I have numerous shortfalls.
I never throw away anything. Once I get my mitts on something,
it becomes part of my personal collection. I once was given the
world’s ugliest brown office chair. The upholstery was made with
material resembling burlap. Did it end up in the landfill? Nope.
It sits right next to my bed, against the wishes of my lovely wife.
You see, I had a mentor, Jim, who invested in me way more than
anyone else. He cared and correctly lectured me many times while
I was in that sweaty chair. I took those lectures as pain decades
ago. Now, I cherish those memories and I miss him more than you
can ever imagine. Life moves fast. Sometimes, key figures move
on to a higher calling. I just can’t get rid of the chair . . . ever.
I have a closet full of stuff 100 miles south of where I pen this
essay. It’s in my parents’ attic. I have visitation rights with it about
every five years. I just know my mother and father would love me
to take those boxes to my Northside Sioux City home. But I would
have to get rid of 20 years of radio industry magazines. Oh no. I
shared too much.
You’re calling the producers right now, aren’t you?
This generation now probably has a much bigger digital footprint
than I will ever produce. However, my box of nostalgia has
better memories than images from Instagram, Snapchat, and
Lookeyatmeallthetimeville. That’s a social platform, right? Ok. If
you are under 45, please avert your eyes.
My cherished keepsakes in a dusty old attic include mixtapes.
Some of them were made for me, and some for pretty girls that
were returned to me. By the way, mixtapes required taping tunes
off the broadcast radio and mixed by a dual cassette recorder.
Man, that was 1989 magic, baby! A Spotify playlist is child’s play.
This work of art was like Casey Casem painting on the ceiling of
the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, or something like that.
You’ll also find newspaper clippings from every Husker football
win, a relative that won a spelling bee, or got arrested for stealing
blank cassette tapes from Radio Shack.
Printing off results from a Google search just doesn’t pack the
same punch.
This concept will be alarming to Tik Tokkers. I used to receive
actual letters and birthday cards you can hold in your hands. They
came from loved ones, my inner circle, girlfriends or someone
I knew on some surface level basis of connection. I’m sure they
have probably forgotten my name.
Did some of those letters smell like Night Rhythms perfume
from a high school double date of Sleepless in Seattle? You
Not So Digital Footprint
betcha! Researchers say the sense of smell will evoke the strongest
memories and I clearly remember having sweaty palms even more
than when I was sitting in the ugly brown office chair. My nerves
were as high as the Empire State building.
Jelly Roll recently accepted a Country Music Association Award
and said, “I want to tell you that the windshield is bigger than the
rearview mirror for a reason, because what’s in front of you is so
much more important than what’s behind you.”
I agree with that statement. I also know that memories I can hold
about amazing people who have graced my life and made it better
are well-worth the closet space.
At least that’s what I’m going to say when the tv crews from Hoarders
show up on my doorstep.
Tony “Michaels” Michalski is an author of “Tacos and Beer
Atmosphere” and former radio broadcaster. He is also the co-host
of the podcast, Starting Conversations with Stacie and Tony, and is
the new Account Executive for Siouxland Magazine.