Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Do I sound like Andy Rooney?

I'm working with a couple of dancers from our church on a liturgical dance at our big Synod-wide worship on May 8th. So we could choreograph, the organist gave us tapes of the music. That's right. Tapes.

I wanted to give the dancers their own copies so they get the music in their heads. I went to Best Buy to buy cassette tapes only to discover that they no longer carry them. The guy in yellow at the door actually laughed at me. "Do you mean CDs?"

I was advised to find tapes for sale online (ahh the irony!)

I'm not that far behind new technology that this comes as a surprise. But it made me feel, well, a bit old. I work with the Senior High Youth and the phrase "When I was your age" slips out of my mouth every once in a while. I try to shove it back in.
I realize it's a slippery slope to becoming Andy Rooney-esque, complaining about every new thing. Certainly mp3 dowloads are handier than bulky tapes. But I can't let them go completely. I have a stack of particularly sentimental ones squirreled away. I could become that person who forces her bored children to listen as she recounts tales of her youth. Oh, that time we skipped school to go see Trip Shakespeare (I've still got that tape, signed by the band) and oh, how much I loved driving listening to Purple Rain (I think I still have that one too, not signed by Prince). The thing is, I also have these in CD form and can download them in a second. But there's something about those tapes.
Don't even get me started on the mixes. A friend's "Sweet and Sour Bob," introduced me to the best of Bob Dylan. "I'll Always Look Up to You" got me through many long nights in the Peace Corps (thanks Freya). I can't get rid of these things. I can replicate the music, but it's more than the music. It's the homemade covers. The cracked cases. I love these tapes.
I guess I'd better hang onto my tape player. Bet you can't find one of those at Best Buy either.

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