On my iPod as of tonight: 166 albums, three audiobooks, 1,200 pictures, and 51 full-length movies…and the hard drive is only half full.
Remember the days of schlepping around a Walkman, and a tape or three?
Of course, I was a poor kid, and I had the knock-off Walkman from the discount store, and all of my tapes were either my clumsy compilations of radio-taped stuff, or copied from friends’ albums. I remember quite a few recording sessions where I’d stop by at a friend’s place to record a specific album or single I knew they owned.
We don’t have personal jet packs, flying cars, or robot butlers yet, but being able to carry around a whole collection of CDs and DVDs is pretty cool, too. I know that if you handed my 14-year-old self that iPod on my desk, that kid would lose his shit. (Of course, he’d only recognize the music in the “Classic Eighties” playlist, and he’d only have 40 hours of listening time before the lack of USB-equipped computers in 1985 would render that iPod a pretty paperweight.)
Here’s a fun exercise: if you could give your 14-year-old self a brief piece of advice from your present self, what would it be?
I’d tell my teenage self to scowl less, shower more, and stop listening to shit like Peter Cetera. (Seriously, kid…trust me on these, or you won’t get laid until well into the next decade.)