Michele Catalano

Former music contributor at Forbes, freelance writer published in The Magazine, Maura Magazine and at Boing Boing http://www.michelecat.wordpress.com

The Lost Art of the Mixtape

There’s no passion involved in moving digital songs from one folder to another

you and your musical rut

I was in tenth grade when I was fixated on The Doors. Fixated to the extent that I wrote a term paper for my music class on the band. I was so proud of that paper, which showed off my knowledge not just of Jim Morrison and his band but of the entire genre in which the Doors resided.

That was the year I had befriended a DJ from a local rock station…

you make me feel like dancing

The year is 1978. I’m in high school, beginning of junior year. There’s me and three guys and we are best of friends. We go nowhere without each other, we make no convoluted plots to take over the world without all of us present. We move like stealth bombers in the night, all army jackets and dirty jeans and Genesis t shirts (before Phil Collins ruined the band…


I cross the street and she’s there, in front of the drug store, waiting for me. She knows I have to pick up my meds and she’s there like a stalker, eyes rimmed with the black of insomnia, hands shoved deep inside her pockets. She’s staring straight ahead at me and I have to acknowledge her. My first instinct is to turn around and go home, go to the park, go anywhere else but to the place…

Publications edited by Michele Catalano

thoughts as essay

one photo. one hundred words. one story.

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shipping out

notes from the subway

mothering: becoming an expert of sorts

It would stand to reason that if you worked at something for 25 years, you’d eventually become an expert at that thing, that you would hone your skills to the point where you could do that thing with your eyes closed, it would be so natural to you.

I’ve been working at being a mother for 25 years now, and I’m still not an expert at…

Don’t Pee in the Millenium Falcon

A long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away), my son DJ was a Star Wars geek. He was barely three the first time he saw A New Hope on tv and was immediately enthralled with the characters, the action and the sounds. He imitated R2D2 and — in what should have been a harbinger of things to come — idolized Darth Vader.

on mayweather

Floyd Mayweather is a serial batterer of women. This we know. It’s not conjecture, it’s not exaggeration. It’s fact. I take this fact and I put a hold on to it. I mull it over while I think about his fight this coming against Manny Pacquiao. There’s no question I’m rooting for Pacquiao. There’s not even a question as to how bad I want Pacquiao to beat Mayweather. I want Mayweather…

there’s crying in sports

The New York Islanders lost last night. It was the seventh game of the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs and the loss sent them packing. Not just a “clean out your locker, see you next year” kind of packing, but more of a “clean out your locker forever, see you next year in a new arena” packing. That the team isn’t coming back to the Coliseum for another year of…

Happiness I Can Not Feel: How Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” changed the way I listen to music

I was eleven years old when I first heard “Paranoid.”

I don’t think anyone intended for me to hear it. A well-meaning cousin bought me a compilation album called Superstars of the 70s (how you put out an album with this title in 1973 is a lesson in a label’s self assured…

Be Excellent to Each Other. Except in Sports

It was some time in the early 80s when I took a trip to Boston Garden for a hockey game. That was the time I learned to never wear your team’s jersey into an opposing team’s arena. It seems in retrospect like a lesson I should not have learned first hand, like it’s something I should have known going in. But I was young and naive and thought…

Last Seat

I finished a good book this week. I loved everything about it — the plot, the characters, the flow of the prose. I was a bit sad when it ended and I had to say goodbye to all the characters and places within but I took solace in the fact that if I wanted, I could pick it up and read it again any time I wanted to. The book sits on my nightstand and I know sometimes I will open it up and…