Free Style
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When I removed my new digital Internet phone from the installation kit, I stared at it in awe. The same way I had when I bought my first CD by CeCe Peniston and placed it in my new portable Sony CD player. I remember sitting on the lower level of the Staten Island Ferry, on my way to work, jamming to "Finally" early in the morning, across from my friends, who were jamming to the music playing in their Sony Walkmans. Even back then I thought about how much had changed since the late eighties when I was a teenager playing hooky from school, escaping Global Studies and taking a round-trip to Manhattan on the ferry with my other delinquent classmates. The lower level, before Sony Walkmans and portable CD players came out, used to be filled with the sounds of a hundred conversations. Strangers and friends talked loudly to be heard over a teenager's giant-Âsized boom box blasting Public Enemy cassettes.
I thought about how fast everything seemed to be moving these days. My life was beginning to look like that Madonna video with the cars and people moving at warp speed. The thought of having to quicken the pace of my own life, in ord ... read full excerpt from Free Style ebook
