When I was ten years old, I had an old tape cassette player.
It was the kind that had a built-in speaker and looked like a radio the size of small book. You know, the kind with four square buttons on top: Rewind, Forward, Play, and Record.
Sometimes I’d lay on the carpet and tape myself making random comments. One day, I pushed the record-button and said, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. And welcome to WSM-Radio. This is your host, William Parker.” And for the next 20-minutes or so, I narrated my own news, weather, commercial breaks and updates—all in different voices.
Sometimes I played inside a cardboard box with a cut-out rectangle opening in the front. With a pencil, I had drawn-on some dials for changing channels. I’d entertain any of my siblings willing to watch me in my pretend-television. Once I set up chairs in a row in the living room and gathered my four siblings to sit there. We sang hymns, and then they listened to me preach. Afterwards, I served crackers and Kool-Aid for communion. Continue reading