an ode to mix CDs.

Approximately 20 years ago, we got the internet at my house.

It was dial-up (obviously), and we lived out in the country. So it was the slowest dial-up imaginable.

But it was the internet, and I didn't care.

Approximately 19 years ago, I convinced my parents we NEEDED a new computer. 

More specifically, a new computer that could burn CDs.

My fellow elderly millennials know how absolutely essential this was, but for those much older or younger, allow me to put it into more universal terms.

I WOULD DIE WITHOUT A CD BURNER.

I wanted this so much that I agreed to pay for half of this new computer. I was earning $5.25 slinging ice cream cones, and my share of the computer would be $250. That's 48 hours of work - NOT COUNTING the taxes that would be taken out. 

I never thought twice about it.

The new computer arrived, and over the next few years, I spent a small fortune on blank CD-Rs. 

I also whiled away many hours of my life waiting for songs to download. On dial-up. With the constant threat of one of my parents needing to use the phone and severing my connection. Which meant I would have to start my download over FROM THE BEGINNING. My young heart had never felt such devastation.

Those hours of downloading and burning resulted in an impressive collection of perfectly crafted mix CDs. I spent ages painstakingly arranging the playlist order while also squeezing as many songs as I possibly could onto each CD. I also carefully considered what each CD would be named, coming up with such masterpieces as "Release the Hounds" and "Here There Be Dragons." 

I carried my binders - yes, multiple - of mix CDs with me in every vehicle. When I drove my Buick Park Avenue, I listened to my CDs via the old tape-player-adapter-hooked-up-to-the-knockoff-Walkman method. (My CD players were never very high-end, so I always had to lift them up off the seat when I crossed rail road tracks.) When I bought my next car, my dad's concern about the likelihood of me crashing the car while rigging up my audio system became too much, and he and my mom installed a CD player in that car for my 18th birthday. It was the COOLEST.

Of all the CDs I burned, my greatest accomplishment was perhaps the "Crapfest" series. Crapfest ended up being a total of 14 volumes filled with songs that you love, but hate to admit. Songs one could find on Crapfest include "A Fifth of Beethoven" by Walter Murphy, "I Would Do Anything for Love" by Meatloaf, "Faith" by George Michael, and the like.

and this!

(BAHAHAHAHA I have always wanted to do that!!!!)

I shared my gift of mix CDs with anyone who would have them. I made CDs for my parents out of songs I knew they liked. I made copies of each and every Crapfest for my friend Bob. When I went off to college, I delighted in making CDs filled with new music to share with my younger brother and sister. I made a CD called "indie rock bastard music" to try and get my new friend James to expand his horizon from just Disturbed and jazz. (James says he listened to that CD until it wore out.)

And then... I got an iPod. 

I had a years-long love affair with it.

During this time, my mix CD creation dropped off dramatically. I still made mix CDs for my friends and family, but it was soooooo much more convenient to carry around this one little device with all the music I could ever imagine (at the time) than to haul around dozens of CDs wherever I went. 

(But plugging the iPod into a car stereo presented a problem to once again be solved by a tape player adapter and/or one of those near-useless radio station scanner things, so I still relied heavily on my CDs for years.)

As the years went by, iPods basically became a thing of the past as well. I now have an iPhone with tons of storage for all the music and photos my heart desires. My car has an AC adapter for my phone, but I don't need it because I can just use Bluetooth to play my music. The latest vehicle my parents got doesn't even HAVE a CD player - they would have had to special order it.

But you know what's still riding around in my trunk?

My two binders of mix CDs.

I can't bring myself to get rid of them. These CDs represent hours of blood, sweat, and tears. They were such a huge part of my teenage life. I listened to them nonstop during the countless trips back and forth from college. The last time I listened to any of them was during James's and my Great American Road Trip to Niagara Falls in 2017 - and even then it was only for an hour or so because SOMEONE wasn't interested (cough JAMES cough). 

I am convinced I'll listen to them again. They are ancient and scratched, but I am dying to know what's on them. I know there's some They Might Be Giants and Ween and Simon and Garfunkel, but that is one of the rare and beautiful things about mix CDs: you just don't know.