The Story of My New (and also First) Stereo:

I cannot believe my luck sometimes. Like now. With this.

Something special happened last weekend. And it involves a tape deck. This one, to be precise:

I was there, at the tip shop, having a quick sift, having recently recycled my cardboard for the week. Arlo, from the store Little Atomz, was there too — doing his market-research, or whatever.

He says, “hey I’ve got something for you”. And that something is the tape deck up above. He says, “that was really kind, that review you did, so I want you to swing by and you can have that wee stereo”.

The “review” he is talking about was actually this newsletter I wrote about the 40th Anniversary of me listening to tapes. And as part of the story I shared a plug for his awesome wee shop that sells all sorts of collectibles, toys, old tapes and CDs and records, pop culture and nostalgia. Comics, books, action figures, you name it.

I included a pic of the stereo there because when I saw it up on a shelf in his spot I almost burst into tears. That was my first stereo. Not that exact one, but it was the same model, same vintage. My parents bought hi-fi equipment (as everyone always referred to it) back from their very first overseas trip. A kinda sales-bonus thing my dad was awarded, and they had to get passports in order to go. We stayed with my great-grandmother for about two weeks and the folks junketed around Hawaii, Hong Kong, and Japan. In Hong Kong they bought duty free stereos as soon as they arrived, then lugged them around for the rest of the trip.

Anyway, I tell this story in that post above — my father’s friend ran over the tape deck, a few years later, because he was appalling at backing a trailer. Turns out he was worse at saying sorry, or appeasing a little crying kid. So that was that.

Flash forward 35 years or so and Arlo hasn’t just made my day, he’s unknowingly offered the apology to the 10 year old me that stood at the side of the river nursing a broken stereo; my father softly saying “the radio still goes at least” because he felt a bit embarrassed for his old bandmate that was always a bit shit around kids.

Arlo says he was really grateful for the writing I did that mentioned his shop. And I too am really grateful for his cool, and generous gift. I rip right out there that same weekend to collect it, and I think I’m getting a dead stereo that is very much just going to be a prop. I figure if it works on any level it is a bonus. It’s really just going to sit on the shelf for a bit, then in a cupboard for a lot longer, then maybe, one day, on a shelf once again.

But I figure I know exactly the man to help me make this tape deck hum again, or rather not hum at all of course…

I go straight down to see Pete — he manages Music Planet in Wellington, a good place to go to if you need an instrument or two, or parts for your instrument (or two).

Pete says, “geez man, what a score, that looks like about a 1983, when the duty free boom was happening and everyone was bringing them back in from overseas…”

I tell him this was in fact my very first tape deck, bought by my parents (for me) in exactly the manner he described and at that time. He says he’ll get it cleaned up for me. We plug in the jug cord to make sure it works, straight away there’s a radio (signal). All good. He says to leave it with him. And overnight he goes to work on it, like, I imagine, that collector in Toy Story 2. He uses the cleaning kit, demagnetises the heads, and gets the gunk out from under the knobs, just spruces it all.

The next day it’s like new. Pete reckons it was barely used for tapes. We decide it was a tradie’s radio, some painter perhaps. Or it was just parked up in a shed, and used there. And maybe for not that long.

This week I’ve played tapes by Mariah Carey and Paul Kelly and the Reality Bites soundtrack, and one of the Halloween scores. And, yeah, all sorts.

Pretty cool eh? I keep looking at it and all I can see is the kid that was elated to have “a stereo” at such a young age; a place for the homemade tapes where the C-90 went in and the Rick Dees’ Weekly Top 40 got recorded in almost its entirety. “Madonna is back. She’s pregnant. Her father wants her to get an abortion. But guess what? She want to keep the baby! This is Papa Don’t Preeeach!”

So, yeah. That’s the story. As much for me, as for you. So I can have it all in one place. Thanks Arlo. Thanks Pete. Thanks mum and dad. No thanks to dad’s mate Dave though. No thanks at all.