Last Chance On The Stairway

Duran Duran and Looking For The Next Big Thing In 80s Greenwich Village

It was my last chance on the stairway, to quote Duran Duran or D2 as we liked to call them, back in the ragin' 80s.

It seemed like a pilgrimage that never ended. After the weekly humdrum of plugging in prices at my local Waldbaums for the joy of $3.25 an hour, I recieved my check of maybe $50 or so, and on the F train I went. Bouncing around the seat, through the dark tunnels of Brooklyn and headed into Manhattan, myself and my co-hort of the moment would discuss how we would spend our money. Hell, we were 16 and ready to PARTY! (Okay, we were lame, but drug and drink free, thank you very much...)

When we finally reached the mecca of all things cool, (that would be the 8th Street stop), ascending from the darkness of the subway into the light was almost blinding. But that money was burning a hole in our pockets...so out we came. 6th Avenue was screaming with sound--loud cars, boom boxes, vendors selling jewlery and scarves...but we were on a mission.

On the corner was a bookstore we would browse at the end of the carefully constructed pilgrimage. Perusing the racks for books by Hunter S. Thompson and Allen Ginsberg, how ahead of our peers I thought I was. They didn't even know or care...they were all only worried about who they would get an ankle bracelet from. (okay, so was I, but since there was no boyfriend on the horizon at that time, it kind of got pushed to the backburner.)

Making the turn onto 8th Street, there was a sign on the left hand side of the street called Hair. It was a running joke...what does that mean. Do they sell it, grow it, cut it? Of course, we were all too chicken shit to ask...then there was Flip the clothing store, the 8th Street playhouse of midnight Rocky Horror showings...so much to choose from.

Underneath the site of our destination was our other fave spot, Postermat. Buttons galore, posters to the limit, (my first Frankie Says Relax t-shirt). FLIP clothing (my friend's paint-splattered and dayglo colored FSR tee) the best stuff ever!

Up the stairs we went mission on full alert. I had my sites set on the Japanese import of the first Duran Duran album. (Notice I said album, CDs were still a distant memory). I had the American and the British, but that Japanese one eluded me. It was so...FOREIGN and glamorous. I...had..to...have...it.

In two directions into the dusty abyss we went. This place was a small as the smallest living room, but jam-packed with tons of memorabilia, records and magazines. I headed towards the import section. My friend picked up the latest issue of Smash Hits from across the pond. There was a later American version called Star Hits, but we didn't like it. It didn't have the British spellings or misspellings as we called them. In color-glory was Bananarama, Howard Jones, A-Ha, all those cute British boys that were going to take us away from our Brooklyn hum-drum.

But I could not be deterred. I searched and searched and after about 15 minutes I found it! Wait, damn it, it had been here all this time? But shoved in under WHAM! Who, I repeat, who could make such a glaring mistake??? Who cared? I got it! It was amazing! It was mine! I even had the guy put it in plastic to keep it safe.

Paying the then ugodly sum of $15 didn't matter. I slaved for it, packing grocery bags and getting paper cuts on my hands (plastic was NOT an option then) and I bought it! Felt great!!! Now we had to go home because at 16, you still don't want to be late for dinner--besides we still had homework to do.

Bumping back on the F-train, we made our way back home...justified in our purchases...cooler than ever!

What does this have to do with being a busy mom? EVERYTHING! Because we still have to have our touchstones, our lives and memories have made us what we are today. And that plastic covered album...still with my keepsake vinyl. My life before kids my life after kids...funny how they can sometimes become one and the same.