I have a confession to make. I can no longer hide in shame, nor can I continue to pretend this doesn’t eat me up inside. I’ve told a few friends, but I shortly lost them after revealing my true self. Yes, it is time for me to stand up and declare with pride: I OWN A DISCMAN! It wasn’t always this way. There was a time when I did have a pink iPod mini. It went with me everywhere. Especially when traveling, I knew if I ever forgot a toothbrush or a pair of sneakers, at least I would have my music to get me through. I truly dislike how an iPod can force one to completely disconnect from his surroundings, so I avoided taking it everywhere. But it was still a loyal friend of mine. Memories of a bad day can quickly dissipate during a brisk walk through the city with melodramatic melodies blasting into your brain. Two summers ago I lived in Honduras for three months. I spent many pleasant afternoons napping in a hammock with my earphones in. One fine afternoon I was at a public pool, napping in a hammock. I must have fallen into a deep sleep because I woke up with my iPod underneath me. Without thinking, I got up to jump in the pool, quickly forgot about my pink friend basking in my hammock and left the pool to go home for dinner. It was during the walk home that I realized I had left something behind. Scrambling back to the pool, I regurgitated some slaughtered Spanish, asking if the staff members had seen a pink iPod anywhere. They replied in Spanish that they hadn’t seen it, but there was a group of rambunctious teens running around the hammock area. Great. Walking back to my house, I felt like I had lost a friend. One of the things I would resort to during times of despair was now gone forever. And what hurt the most was that someone ELSE had it. Someone was enjoying MY music and MY playlists. It was at this point that I remembered I had brought my discman to Honduras. I don’t know why I did that, but it was one of those last-minute packing decisions that we make just before a big trip that doesn’t seem to make sense at the time. I went home, popped a CD in the old portable CD player and felt my bad day drown in a puddle of overly sensitive music. Since then, my relationship with my discman has been history. I’ve had friends criticize, ridicule, even YELL at me for owning a discman. “How could you possibly own a discman?” “iPods aren’t that expensive anymore; why are you holding out?” “How do you carry that THING everywhere?” This is just a taste of the verbal abuse I’ve succumbed to. Now, I haven’t lost ALL of the advantages that come with an iPod. I can still clear my head with a brisk walk and some tunes . . . I just have to make sure I hold my discman flat on my hand so it doesn’t skip. I can make different playlists for different moods. I just have to give myself enough time to burn a CD before I leave the house. Is it really that bad to own a discman? Regardless of what I may have “lost” during this significant transition in my life, one thing remains true. I don’t have to worry about my discman getting stolen! Courtney Centeno, account executive