I miss the whole concept of mix tapes and CD’s. Future generations will never understand the sheer joy that is evoked by someone special handing you a mix tape. This person took the time to create a playlist, usually on paper, and then painstakingly recorded each song from beginning to end, strategically pausing the recording to pop in another CD or to *gasp* record a song off the radio.
If this gift-giver was particularly fond of you, they would find an empty cassette case, which, in mix tape heyday was virtually impossible. Let me explain: Upon opening a new tape in your car or home, you would remove the insert that contained the lyrics and throw the clear, plastic case with reckless abandon into the backseat or on the floor of your bedroom, where, inevitably, it would disappear or be crushed within seconds.
If this gift-giver was particularly fond of you, they would find an empty cassette case, which, in mix tape heyday was virtually impossible. Let me explain: Upon opening a new tape in your car or home, you would remove the insert that contained the lyrics and throw the clear, plastic case with reckless abandon into the backseat or on the floor of your bedroom, where, inevitably, it would disappear or be crushed within seconds.
Locating a functioning cassette case was a feat in and of itself. If you received a mix tape with an UNCRACKED case? You better marry that person, because they clearly traveled to the ends of the earth. One would think the prize was the tape or the case… I always valued the personalized insert the most.
When I was in junior high school, CD’s were the main choice for music, but the cost to purchase a burner was still prohibitively expensive. So, to properly portray your feelings for another, you didn’t really have a choice. We thought we were evolved now that we did not have to tape songs off the radio. If you're from my age group, you remember listening to your local radio station, and vaulting over furniture to hit record when the song you love started. You would be forced to hover over the tape player until the song was over, and hope the DJ wouldn't start talking over the track before the end.
Now that we had CD's, we would have uninterupted recording, and control over when the songs started. This, my friends, was a labor-intensive process.
As a 10th grader, a favorite friend of mine gave me an unforgettable mix tape that included, prepare to swoon… Tom Petty’s “Wildflowers” and Dennis Leary’s “Asshole.” I was fifteen and flattered. He drew flowers next to Tom Petty’s song listing and “HA!” in a cartoon dialogue bubble next to Dennis Leary's. Shortly thereafter, he asked me to his prom.
Now that we had CD's, we would have uninterupted recording, and control over when the songs started. This, my friends, was a labor-intensive process.
As a 10th grader, a favorite friend of mine gave me an unforgettable mix tape that included, prepare to swoon… Tom Petty’s “Wildflowers” and Dennis Leary’s “Asshole.” I was fifteen and flattered. He drew flowers next to Tom Petty’s song listing and “HA!” in a cartoon dialogue bubble next to Dennis Leary's. Shortly thereafter, he asked me to his prom.
I have no idea whatever happened to that mix tape, but I do know I listened to it tirelessly until I bought a car that didn't have a tape deck a few years later... And I think of Matt awkwardly standing at my front door in his tuxedo, hands shaking and shoving a corsage box at me every time I hear Tom Petty's "Wildflowers." You don’t experience that kind of lasting memory from a fleeting playlist.
These days, we have the technology to compile playlists on our phones. Wait, wha??? Comparatively, I would say it took HOURS to make a mix tape, while these days, it takes all of... oh... three minutes to hop on Spotify, throw together a playlist and text it.
Don't get me wrong. I love Spotify with every fiber of my being, but part of me misses the effort of the mix tape. *sigh*
On a more positive note, this is the first time I can honestly say I am proud of a playlist I put together for my boyfriend of almost 4 years. Yes, I call him Wubby, a name used to refer to security blanket, because I don’t like sleeping without him. I’m fully aware that I’m a cheeseball.
Don't get me wrong. I love Spotify with every fiber of my being, but part of me misses the effort of the mix tape. *sigh*
On a more positive note, this is the first time I can honestly say I am proud of a playlist I put together for my boyfriend of almost 4 years. Yes, I call him Wubby, a name used to refer to security blanket, because I don’t like sleeping without him. I’m fully aware that I’m a cheeseball.
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