I Wept Because I Had No Woman Until I Met A Man Who Had No Hands
I was digging out an old Don Covay CD this weekend when I took a minute and noticed how many discs I have. Along with the rest of the world I’ve stopped buying music over the last couple of years, but when you look back at the nineties, I must have dropped well into the five figures on CDs. I don’t regret it too much: You don’t spend the same level of time with digital files as you do with a tactile object that requires insertion and removal (that line sounds, like, robot dirty or something), and even though I know it is a rapidly disappearing way to “experience” music, I still feel like you have a deeper connection to an album when you’ve got a cover and liner notes to pore over while you’re listening. Why, yes, I am old, thank you! So anyway, yeah, I probably blew my retirement fund on stuff like the remastered version of Breakfast in America which is now available free pretty much anywhere, but I can live with it.But what about the porn fans? I’m sure there’s some poor guy who’s looking at the giant collection of expensive DVDs and videotapes he purchased instead of upgrading his wardrobe or joining a gym and smacking himself (not that way) when he sees how much free jack-off material the Internet makes available now. And not just normal blowjob videos and the like (the porn equivalent of your major label releases), completely cost-free bizarre fetishy stuff (those rare white label Japanese-only pressings of MBV B-sides). Let’s shed a tear for those guys, the porn addicts who were born too soon.