Vasalissa got me an ipod for my birthday.
I spent the next hour digging through CDs stressing myself out trying to decide which songs needed to go on it IMMEDIATELY. I ended up with piles of "Yes", "Nos", and "Unsures" blocking the entire apartment.
It was strange. One moment I was indifferent to the fact such technology existed, the next I was tying myself into knots deciding which songs had to go on it RIGHT NOW!!!!
I'm already thinking of getting a machine that will transfer music from casettes to some kind of electronic form.
Because music isn't just music. It's pieces of memory. Each CD I picked up, I wasn't holding a piece of plastic, it was the soundtrack to part of my life--here an all night drive to Manitoba with a couple of pro wrestlers; there's my student teaching experience; hey, look, this is the novel I wrote fifteen years ago or my taekwon-do workout music; the night shift at a video store or the hospital or the Support Network; the first girl I kissed; the first girl I WANTED to kiss and so much more.
It's more than music. It's my life.
Meanwhile, I've decided my addiction to the printed word has become unmanageable. As a small experiment, I've decided to go a week or so without reading.
I'm already experiencing pangs of withdrawal.
1 comment:
Digitize everything, get a backup-o-matic. Rearrange iPod contents at whim. CDs eventually wear out, and it is sad.
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