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When you get old like me it's hard to create new memories, but fun to think of things we've done and how we felt. Tapes were a way to bring along the medicine man that held us together. Magic magnet machines took the music from the vinyl and plastic and put it in your hand. The little Japanese market Panasonic player with the miraculous alloy case that was SMALLER than a cassette shell would get warm after an hour of play on those cold, rainy walks in Crescent City. Tiny Sony Fontopia earbuds would wire you to the love and pain. Eddie Vedder would wail and you'd wail with him and everyone you'd pass would wonder why you were growling like a crazy man. And now, Stephen, you bring it all back home and it makes sense again. But the critics will cry foul as they jump like fish and take the bait that wasn't offered. Hooked on sonics, you will reel them in, little reel to little reel, 1 7/8 ips, and they will carp over details and hiss and flutter. Wow.