I'll be 35 years old this month, and I'm beginning to feel like it.
On a bookshelf in the basement young Ella saw the words "ANNIE." Fast becoming a favorite story of hers, she was drawn to this large presentation that had pictures from the movie in a story-book sort of format. Then this large black disc fell out.
ELLA: Dad. What's this?
DAD: That's called an album, Ella.
ELLA: What is it?
DAD: Well, it plays music. See, when I was a little boy, we didn't have CD's like you have for your music. We had these. We put them on a record player. It spun around and played music.
ELLA: Let's listen to it.
DAD: We can't listen to it anymore. We don't have a record player.
Ella then proceeds to put the album on top of our boom-box CD player on the shelf.
DAD: Ella... it doesn't work.
ELLA: It's broken?
DAD: No... it's not broken... it's just... it doesn't... I mean... we don't... yeah... it's broken.
emails: vvitrano@todaystmj4.com
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