Bring Out Your Dead

Like many of you, my music collection began on the venerable Compact Cassette format. While I’m somewhat ashamed to say the first tape I bought on my own was *cough* Thriller, the second proved to be a much more dignified choice.

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1984 wasn’t so bad after all.

Although I remember when computers came with cassette tape players, the format doesn’t exactly lend itself to multimedia excellence. I haven’t had a tape player for years, so they’ve just sat there moldering.

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Fighting the Bogeyman, With Science!

Before I continue, a programming note. Effective immediately the sobriquet of “Beachy” as it refers to my daughter is retired on SB. She’s never been a big fan of it, and earlier today requested its immediate and permanent discontinuance. We’re talking in the strongest possible terms here. I’m left with no alternative but to honor her request.

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It remains to be seen how I handle this from here. Stay tuned.
Image credit: Wolfram Burner

Right, now on with today’s narrative.

As is the case with most eight-year-olds, bedtime can be an ongoing battle. In the case of my daughter, this is especially true when she’s with me, as well as especially true on the eve of a major event such as the last day of school. That’s tonight’s double whammy.

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