Depressed Mods on Memory Lane

I've only had two--well, technically three, keep reading-- things stolen from me (not counting personal items gone "missing" from my bedroom...) which is pretty good, I'd say. Both instances were completely my fault due to momentary lapses in brain activity: A bicycle when I was at ASU and an even more prized possession back in the good ole' days of Jr. High. Please give a warm round of thanks to John Richards for bringing it all back this morning, as I lay in bed, not wanting to get up and knowing that I didn't even have to! (Day off for Linnet with no scheduled engagements...ahhh, sweet life.) It went something like this: Music, music, music...nice to listen to the music...hey, that sounds like Depeche Mode...it is. It's from that album I had in 8th grade that was kiped with my walkman from my backpack...
Sudden clear memory of taking the cellophane wrapping off of the tape after I purchased it. Not where I bought it, or what the day was like--most likely sunny, this was Phoenix, after all--not even what it was like to listen to the very first time I put it into a tape deck. No. Taking that thin, clear, crackling wrapper off. A whiff of plastic smell, particular to that synthetic material. The purchase of this tape was a big deal. I rarely bought music, so I must have had birthday money burning a hole in my pocket. Any other DM albums I owned had been copied for me by friends back in Salt Lake. I wouldn't discover the wonders of used records and tapes until the following year, thanks to a boyfriend and Zia Records.
This, Music for the Masses, was constantly in my walkman. (I use the word generically, I doubt I actually had the Sony version). I dared to bring it to school in my backpack--not listen to it during class, or anything, I wasn't a complete fool. I Just liked knowing I could put on my headphones while I waited for my mom to pick me up after school, listen to those heavy synthesizers and that deep, mellow voice. The feeling that I was in on something exclusive. That I was my own brand of cool, even if it didn't mesh with the rest of Palo Verde Jr. High. Listening to music that, with a couple of exceptions, none of my other jr. high pals liked was my version of surpassing the Joneses. They had better clothes, better hair, probably even had lots of tapes to listen to in their walkmans. But I had Depeche Mode. Until I set my backpack, complete with walkman and DM tape inside, beneath a bench and I left it there. Just for a minute! I swear!!
Funny, I don't have any recollection of why I set it down unattended. Was I still so naive to think that no one would take someone else's stuff from a school? We're all such good mannered kids? Why leave it under the bench, what was so immediately important? My attention called away to do...what? Giggle with some girlfriends? Say goodbye to my crush of the moment? Drink from the water fountain? When I returned to my seat, the pack was still there but unzipped. Walkman and tape gone. The tape case, however, was still inside. I remember thinking "Why couldn't they at least have left the tape? They probably don't even like Depeche Mode!" I'll bet I'd barely had it a month when that happened.

I have a sudden urge to repurchase this album.