Ripping My Life
I’m not into material possessions, except when it comes to my music, movie and book collections and maybe my Dukes of Hazard lunchbox. I cherish those collections, especially my music collection.
While I was in college I would, from time to time, have to sell some of my c.d.’s to afford some Ramen noodles and gas. It was always stuff I bought for one song and the rest of the c.d. was awful; Sugar Ray, Smashmouth, Korn, you get the idea. Over the years I have repurchased some of those c.d.’s to try to complete the soundtrack of my life. I like owning them. I never listen to them, but I like to have them near me.
I have fought tooth and nail with the digital age of music. I swore I would never trade my physical music collection in for a digital one. But here I have been the last couple of weeks ripping my music onto itunes.
I have a canvas bag of c.d.’s sitting next to my desk to take to half-priced books tomorrow. It hurts. It fucking hurts. Some of these c.d.’s are over twenty years old. I don’t mean the music is twenty years old. I mean I bought the c.d. twenty years ago. C.D.’s that withstood numerous purging in college so I could eat and get around. C.D.’s I haven’t listened to in almost twenty years. I own Natural Selection. Who owns that c.d. besides me? NO ONE and I’m sad that I’m getting rid of it. This canvas bag full of c.d.‘s sitting next to me right now contains the soundtrack to various parts of my life and I’m gonna sell it for $30, $40 if I’m lucky.
This is the second bag in as many weeks that I’ve taken to sell. At least the next time we move I should only have three boxes of music to pack now.
