The Life and Legacy of a Mix Tape

Remember me? It's ok, you don't have to feel embarassed or obliged to say anything. You probably forgot I was still here. I mean...I've been sitting on this shelf behind some books for about 7 years now hoping you'd stumble upon me again, so if I were you I probably would've forgotten about me, too. At one point I think I was in a box in the attic. In fact, the others may still be up there. Either way, it seems my once famed legacy has boiled down to one thing: dust collector.

Wait! Wait! Since I've got your here for a minute, can we take a trip down memory lane? Remember when the art of music-giving was just that; an art? I'm not trying to make my cousin out to be a bad guy. CD is alright. He's got the capacity to hold some choice tunes, too. But don't let him fool you; he's pretty lazy.

It's not that I'm bitter with CD or his sister, MP3. Sometimes I think about trying to intermingle. But then I get to thinking, "Will my newer, more technical counterparts consider me uncool? In their eyes, what do I have to offer? I certainly don't look at sleek at they do."

But I had glory days, too, and they required a whole lot more than putting a list of songs together and waiting for a computer to tell you if they fit in their eniterety on me or not.

Do you remember the time you decided to take that cross-country road trip with your best friend to celebrate your freedom and entry into adulthood? I do; I was there. What was that song you made your theme song? Yea.. you know which one I'm talking about. "Born To Be Wild."

One time you had all of these songs recorded from off the radio. I think it was Mariah Carey (you don't like her anymore, I get it), TLC, Smashing Pumpkins, The Fugees, and Pearl Jam. At first I laughed because I thought you were a really confused teen. That was before I realized how open-minded you were becoming.

Or how about the time that guy you crushed on all those months (you're rolling your eyes, but I never thought he was all that good-looking to begin with) finally worked up the nerve to ask you to make things "official" on the drive home from that party and you shared your first kiss? You know you do. You made a mix on me from everything you danced to that night, and the song playing in the background when he finally made his move.. Heck, I even got tired of it by the 34th time in a row. But it made you smile for a long time and I remember that. Want to know how I remembered that it was 34 times? Because I sped as furiously as I could to rewind to exactly the right spot where the song began. Just because it was what you wanted. Maybe you listen to that song on CD now. But he probably doesn't even keep track of how many times it's been played. All you have to do it press one button & you're instantly at the beginning again. Sorry that relationship didn't work out, by the way.

Me? I'm flexible. I know how your music interests change (you've become even more open-minded as an adult based on the music I hear coming from your computer), so if you get tired of a song I'm playing you could always just record over it with a new one. My cousin on the other hand... he holds music on him, true. But try rewriting his format to hold different songs and suddenly he's not the most cooperative guy.

I know, I know. It'll take you longer to put the songs following the new one in order with timing if you start recording over the old ones. But think of me this way; I'm a hidden gem that you recently discovered again. And while I know I'm not the kind of treasure that would make you a lot of money if you tried selling me on Ebay.. I'd like to think I still hold some kind of value in your eyes. You can't put a price on memories. And correct me if I'm wrong, but we had some great times. Didn't we? And wasn't the time and energy you put into making me the reason you loved giving me as a gift or keeping me for your own personal collection in the first place? I mean, you would literally spend DAYS writing out my track list, making sure the timing fit perfectly, decorating my outside cover, and sometimes even making a small booklet to fold up inside me with the lyrics. When I was a gift, you said that it showed just how much the recipient meant to you by the work you put into me. If you would've known how proud a peacock I was when you were done.. well, needless to say, I felt pretty invincible at that point.

If it's for convenience sake that you've chosen other media players, hey, I get that. But why not take me out once in a while and give me a chance? I'd love to see the expression on your face when you hear song number 2 again or the recordings from your first band. You've still got a boom box with a tape deck in the basement, right? One in your car? And it's not like I'm needy. I'm not asking you to take me out all the time or even undertake a mix-tape revival (although, in a totally biased way, I think that would be pretty great). I mean, come on, I've been sitting here for 7 years now. I think I've grown to be very patient. And when the time comes in my old age where the songs just wont play right anymore, I'm still useful. You can frame me in an attempt at modern art, slip me onto a chain as a necklace, turn me into a belt buckle or a wallet, or use my tape for gift bag stuffing (ok, honestly, the thought of you ripping out my insides like that is the most morbid thought that has ever crossed my mind).

In the meantime, I'd be pretty stoaked (is that even an expression you use anymore? Forgive me, it's been a while) if you'd keep me intact and just revisit me from time to time. Then maybe my current legacy will return to something more meaningful. Like time machine... or memory box.