Saying good-bye to an old friend
I bought a new stereo today.
To get technical, it's the Jensen JIMS-525A. It's an all-in-one system with an iPod dock, HD radio capable and a line-in feature if I still want to play a CD.
But the story here is what this snazzy little thing replaced. My old stereo.
My old stereo is an Aiwa system with a 3-cd changer and dual cassette tape decks. I received it as a Christmas present sometime in high school, but I don't remember which year. But I feel comfortable saying I've had this stereo for, at minimum, 9 years.
But 10 is more likely.
And as I broke the Aiwa down, it taking up about 90 percent of the top of a cabinet, to replace it with more recent technology that would deliver equal, if not better sound quality while taking up less than a quarter of the same space, I felt a twinge of something.
I actually felt a little bad I was doing this. Like I was giving up on the Aiwa.
I started thinking of all the places that stereo had gone with me. From my room in Happy Camp to the COS dorms, to University Village, to the house on Oak Park, to the apartments on East Lassen, to down here in Yuba City.
I remember my simple strategy for meeting new people every year college started was to just leave my door open and put on whatever CD I had recently bought (sophomore year was Linkin Park's Reanimation. It had just come out, OK?)
The speakers still had off-color stains. Those came from a party one night at the Oak Park house, either one of the Cowboy Parties or the Super Bowl. Some girls dropped a jar of picante, which somehow managed to explode with such force the picante shot all the way back up to the ceiling, and onto most everything else near the table. Such as the stereo.
Yes, the stereo produces memories.
But time had caught up with it. The guts work well, but speaker wires and receivers had pretty much worn out their life. A tinkerer could probably get it to work fine. And then there's the matter of modern technology. I'm pretty much all-iPod now. I very rarely listen to a music CD and can't even remember the last time I played a cassette.
Maybe I can find a good home for it.
So, thanks to you, Aiwa. I'll buy "Leave the Memories Alone" off iTunes or something to remember it all.
But please keep the picante sauce away from the new stereo, OK?
To get technical, it's the Jensen JIMS-525A. It's an all-in-one system with an iPod dock, HD radio capable and a line-in feature if I still want to play a CD.
But the story here is what this snazzy little thing replaced. My old stereo.
My old stereo is an Aiwa system with a 3-cd changer and dual cassette tape decks. I received it as a Christmas present sometime in high school, but I don't remember which year. But I feel comfortable saying I've had this stereo for, at minimum, 9 years.
But 10 is more likely.
And as I broke the Aiwa down, it taking up about 90 percent of the top of a cabinet, to replace it with more recent technology that would deliver equal, if not better sound quality while taking up less than a quarter of the same space, I felt a twinge of something.
I actually felt a little bad I was doing this. Like I was giving up on the Aiwa.
I started thinking of all the places that stereo had gone with me. From my room in Happy Camp to the COS dorms, to University Village, to the house on Oak Park, to the apartments on East Lassen, to down here in Yuba City.
I remember my simple strategy for meeting new people every year college started was to just leave my door open and put on whatever CD I had recently bought (sophomore year was Linkin Park's Reanimation. It had just come out, OK?)
The speakers still had off-color stains. Those came from a party one night at the Oak Park house, either one of the Cowboy Parties or the Super Bowl. Some girls dropped a jar of picante, which somehow managed to explode with such force the picante shot all the way back up to the ceiling, and onto most everything else near the table. Such as the stereo.
Yes, the stereo produces memories.
But time had caught up with it. The guts work well, but speaker wires and receivers had pretty much worn out their life. A tinkerer could probably get it to work fine. And then there's the matter of modern technology. I'm pretty much all-iPod now. I very rarely listen to a music CD and can't even remember the last time I played a cassette.
Maybe I can find a good home for it.
So, thanks to you, Aiwa. I'll buy "Leave the Memories Alone" off iTunes or something to remember it all.
But please keep the picante sauce away from the new stereo, OK?
Robert said this @ 11:16:00 PM
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