We didn't have iPods or smart phones while I was growing up. It was all about the radio, or the record player, for my eight year old self. One of those portable record players resided in my room, and a Donny Osmond record was all I needed.
As the needle began the revolution through the grooves of the vinyl, I waited for the scratchy sound of the music to begin. Then I would sing at the top of my lungs, all about "puppy love", until my mother would suddenly yell that she had a headache.
I made my own karaoke.
Go visit Tara at Thin Spiral Notebook to see other 100 word entries--or try your own hand at it!