When I was about 5 years old, I loved to sing along to a the Broadway musical Annie on record. I'd bring all my stuffed animals to the living room, line them all up on the couch, and sing to my captive audience every day. One day, my dad came home with a little box. He handed it to me and I opened it to find this microphone inside. He showed me how to plug it into the stereo so I could hear my voice over the recording. I must have used it every day for years.
This was also the first mic I used when I started creating my "multi-track" recordings as a teenager. I'd sing into a tape recorder, then *using a second tape recorder* I'd record myself playing the first recording while singing another. I built up lots of interesting layers that way. Lots of white noise. Lots of love.
I'm really grateful my parents acknowledged the things that were interesting to me and it's something I'm now doing for my son. Who knows which of the things he likes now will be the thing that sticks. It's interesting to think he may already know exactly what he wants to be when he grows up. I know I did. I started plunking out the melodies I heard around me on the piano when I was 2. There was never a doubt that I would be a musician from even further back than I can remember. 35 years later, the desire burns brighter than ever.