Today it occurred to me a particular old (Win 7!) laptop would serve the home cause perfectly as a CD player connected to the small Bose amp already in the living room.
Of course, that led to relocating all the CDs nearer *its* location, which led to chancing upon the CD I made when I was the age of the guy I'm currently recording. I rather love how such synchronicities can fill in "uncomfortably quiet" gaps in a new relationship.
Super fun revisiting that while cleaning the house this morning. I remembered what *most* of the lyrics were about, but contracted me a nagging craw over an elusive few.
There was this girl I was very much "in friend" with in those days. We never went what might be called "the distance" (although we *did* "Indian leg wrestle" once..), but <deity> we had some fun listening to The Cure and Depeche Mode en route to favorite watering holes on Friday and/or Saturday nights. Several of the originals are about our interactions.
I'd come over to her place at whatever time, pour a drink, then sit on her toilet yakking whilst she went through what she called her "transformation" (i.e. via cosmetics). I just got such a kick out of that, because we'd eventually get to whatever place, and there'd be guys working their moves for a chance with her, but I had access to what to *me* constituted her "holiest of holies".
Anyway... I also became reacquainted with why listening to content on actual physical media beats the living fuck out of streaming the same now that monetization has devolved into an advertisement every song and a half amidst annoying popups to kill.
Once I have to move to that one room apartment, my turntable has to go with me. And the albums, of course. Carlos Santana and Peter Herbolzheimer RC&B go a long way ...