Navigating Like It’s 1981

brian — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 14:48:09 +0000

I had to take a different route than usual home from work the other day. I had an event to attend in downtown Baltimore so it just made sense at the time.

Luckily, I left before the real bad part of the afternoon rush hour started so I figured I could potentially cruise home with no problem. Once again, I don’t know why I trust my instincts.

I hadn’t even merged from I-95 to the Baltimore Beltway when I saw the first sign of trouble. Cars were already backed up after I passed the point of no return for that exit. I quickly turned on the radio to try and suss out the trouble.

An accident ahead had limited traffic to one lane. I listened to the location of the problem and made a quick decision. I had to pretend I was 13 years old again.

You see, all this trouble happened just a little bit away from Catonsville, my hometown. When I realized that the trouble would force me to crawl at a snail’s pace on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, I quickly decided on an alternative.

A friend in Hanover talks about navigating the streets there like a mouse looking for the cheese in an attempt to avoid the traffic lights on the main roads. I needed to now navigate the maze of Catonsville to try and cut down on my delay or, at the very least, make the drive more interesting.

This required me to revert to my teenage self because I traversed the side streets of my hometown on a bike all the time back then. I would start pedaling in the morning, either visiting friends or spending the day the pool where we belonged, and come home in time for dinner.

Back then, our parents actually encouraged us to go play away from the house without any way of staying in touch. I understand concerns that parents have these days about safety, but I learned and experienced so much back then as my buddy Dave and I set off in the search of pizza, Big Gulps and good records.

That’s how I knew I needed to cut from Newburg to Frederick to Wyndcrest to Summit (which bordered on the street where Dave lived) to Beechwood to Edmonson which led me to Old Frederick (down near my neighborhood) to Route 40 where I could get back on the Beltway past most of the backup.

In some way, this might seem fairly inconsequential, but I reveled in how quickly I remembered my way around the town I have not lived in for almost 20 years. The names of the streets may not have come to me naturally, but I figured everything out almost right away.

I have reconnected with a lot of friends via Facebook so this kind of nostalgia kind of fits in what’s been going on in my life lately. Most of the time I spend back there involves family activities so I don’t get a chance to just explore like the old days as much as I would like.

I only wish I had a chance to stop at some of my old haunts along the way. I’ll have to find time for that on another trip.

Part of the Past Dies

brian — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 13:59:54 +0000

Today marks the last day of a place very important in my life, even though I can’t remember the last time I paid it a visit. Record and Tape Traders will close its Catonsville location.

If you read here regularly or know me, you understand that I love music. I can’t play it too well, except for banging out some basic songs on the guitar all alone in my basement, but so many songs and rock events have shaped my life. I can honestly say that might not be the case without the Record and Tape Traders on Frederick Road.

My friend Dave and I, along with various other kids we grew up with, would literally spend hours in the store, first at the cramped, dark location next to Pinnochio’s (I was able to correct the Sun reporter who didn’t know about this location) and then at the two-story landmark (pictured here) it occupied until last year.

You could find rare 45s, bootleg albums and pretty much whatever else you wanted. And you could find them cheap, which was very important when you were 13 and trying to grow your music budget on an allowance.

One of my best purchases at Record and Tape came in the winter of 1986 or spring of 1987. I forget which, but I remember many of the other details very clearly. I had heard of R.E.M. while away at college and knew the song “(Don’t Go Back to) Rockville” from a mix tape I stole from my buddy Tom.

I distinctly remember standing in front of the cassette display and trying to find something by the band to buy. They had a tape of Life’s Rich Pageant for, I’m pretty sure $3. That was all I needed to get hooked.

Like I said, I can’t remember the last time I went to the store, but that does not diminish the impact it had on my life. It sucks that things have to end sometimes.

Catonsville – Regular Guy

Navigating Like It’s 1981

Part of the Past Dies