#54 Music
I grew up listening to the radio my mother had in our kitchen. Whenever she was cooking, washing, or resting in the kitchen chair, there was always someone talking or singing to make her (us) company. Those voices came from the little black device, one of those with a huge antenna and manual dials, nothing fancy.
My father listened to the radio in his car, but at home he liked to play his records, the many he collected over the years. He liked attending live music events too, so much so that at one point in his life, he invested in venues where people could listen to unplugged concerts or have dinner with a local band. He did that thirty years ago; he was cool.
I got a Walkman as a present from my grandma when I turned 14, and at 15, I won a huge double-cassette player in a raffle, which I used to record mixtapes. I liked going to concerts too, and I was lucky because the northern town I grew up in was visited by many national artists, and ticket prices were nothing like they are these days. Someone asked me last week when the last time I felt happy and free was, and I said it was at a concert, or whenever I attend dancing classes.
Music was always present in my life; no matter where I lived, there was always music to serve as my day’s soundtrack. From happy to sad, from energetic to whatever I decided to listen to those days I felt the world was ending. That’s why it made sense to make a playlist for Unwritten, because the book tells a story and the playlist helps you feel it.
If you are a nineties person, if you grew up in Spain or lived in Portugal, if you listened to the radio for years until streaming became the new reality, you might enjoy this.
