Channel 29
We were the first to have cable
on MTV launch day, August 1st, 1981.
It was a hot, bright day on Long Island
when Video Killed the Radio Star
eclipsed our perception of life on Earth-
pictures came and broke your heart…
we can’t rewind we’ve gone too far.
Our living room became a place of worship
where friends congregated to venerate false gods on screen,
slamming guitars, pounding keyboards
in Zod trio outfits that looked like
they had just returned from the moon
on a drum kit while high on acid.
we wanted to be them:
David Bowie, Duran Duran
Robert Smith, Boy George,
big hair, moon boots,
Halloween make-up all year round.
The channel, from then on, was MTV
unless someone switched the buttons on “the box”.
There was no remote -
It was a Jerrold box, the size of a Belgium block,
with three rows of numbers and buttons,
and a side wheel like a casino slot handle,
that took you down to the double digits.
MTV was down there, three clicks
on the finger wheel to channel 29,
and it was there that it remained
until MTV lost the M in its TV,
slipping away like a song crossing state lines.
We thought music was its essence-
A sempiternal symphony of the new and raw.
We don’t know what it stands for anymore.
We can’t rewind they’ve gone too far.
When Pluto was a Planet
T.Vs. rolled into classrooms on wheels.
We loved those days when the TV stood
in front of our desks like robot Johnny 5.
We wanted to dance with it, roll around
in ecstasy for making part of our day
so unchallenging.
We thought we were going to watch the usual:
Davey and Goliath, The Clyde Frog Show, or
Slim Goodbody aka Mr. Goodbody,
who looked like Richard Simmons in an unitard
that depicted anatomically correct organs,
bones, and body parts.
But it was Tuesday. No ordinary Tuesday.
It was Tuesday, January 28th, 1986 –
The TV was here to broadcast the launch -
The space shuttle, Challenger launch.
Out walked the seven astronauts –
My eyes were fixed on Christa McAuliffe,
a history teacher, which was always my favorite subject,
and Judith Resnik, who was the second American female,
and first Jewish woman in space.
I wondered what McAuliffe’s students
were doing & saying at this moment,
and then the sound came:
the mushroom liftoff,
seconds later, 73 seconds later,
the explosion,
that transfigured the rocket into a cumulus cloud.
the TV promptly shut off and rolled
a slow roll out of the classroom.
Teachers congregated in the hall
unable to process the situation,
some were crying. We were left
confused for what felt like an eternity.
Our teachers must have spoken to us,
tried to console us, but I don’t remember it.
What I do remember is Christa McAuliffe’s sister,
She was the last image I saw on the roll-out TV
a face of inconsolable grief.
And now, when I hear
Ground Control to Major Tom /Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (Ten, nine, eight, seven,
six)
images of the Challenger surface like PTSD
When Artemis II launched in April,
images of the Challenger surface like PTSD
the heart rate rises, the sweat is always cold,
and it will never go away, like Pluto,
regardless of the IAU’s reclassification-
it will always be our ninth planet.
Nancy Byrne Iannucci is a New York-based writer and author of four chapbooks. Her first full-length poetry collection is set for publication in 2027. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, she was short-listed for the 2025 Poetry Lighthouse prize. Her work appears in several places including Thrush, Maudlin House, Glass, and Belladonna's Garden Literary Review. She lives in upstate NY with her three cats. Web: www.nancybyrneiannucci.com IG: @nancybyrneiannucci
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