Like many of us ‘90s to early 2000s kids, my childhood was spent listening to burnt CDs. Some of my parents’ old compact discs have even followed me into adulthood, and now live in a thick booklet in the glove compartment of my car. CDs hold a lot of sentimental value for me, which is why I find it so tragic that newer vehicles lack the means to play them.
Maybe it’s the touchscreens, flush door handles, and keyless entries that have people rushing for the latest vehicle models — but for me, I’ll gladly forgo all of these glamorous features in exchange for the ability to play my CDs on the road.
It’s not only nostalgia that makes me so stubborn. There’s also something about owning physical copies of my favourite albums that makes me feel like they’re really mine. It’s comforting to know that even in a hypothetical, post-apocalyptic world without streaming services like Spotify or Apple Music, I could still listen to my favourite tunes whenever I wanted.
Whether I have a point or just need to get with the times, as long as I have my CDs, I don’t really care.
