My friend Meredith and I used to tape songs off the TV with cassette recorders before they invented VCRs. Late one dark night we sat through an entire showing of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas just so we could record Dolly Parton singing "Hard Candy Christmas," and then halfway through the song my brother Kyle showed up and started pounding on the window. So somewhere in my mother's basement sits a shoe box with a white cassette tape in it labeled "Meredith screams at Dolly."
(Why didn't we simply purchase the movie soundtrack, you're wondering. Life was not so convenient in the days of Value Village and no sidewalks. It was the 80s. Everything was against us. Also, it's tough to save up for record albums when your allowance is $2 a week and you're spending it all on midnite blue mascara and bubblegum-flavored Maybelline Kissing Potion.)