...All configurations that have previously existed on this earth must yet meet, attract, repulse, kiss, and corrupt each other again.
— Heinrich Heine Hmm. My youngest sister, Briana, received a Magnavox boombox for Christmas. While she was connecting the thin black and red wires, I wondered if she'd someday be listening to her Fallout Boy and Blink-182 CDs through an Arcam Solo. I kind of wish my mom would have consulted me before buying her a boombox. I mean, what good am I if I can't make some recommendations on audio equipment? If we couldn't have sprung for a $15,000 Burmester 001, at least we could have given her my old boombox. Yesterday afternoon, I finally did it. I finally pulled the old girl out of its little wooden alcove beneath my Sharp television. For good, I think. I connected its small plastic speakers to its small plastic notches and tied its thin black and red wires in loose knots. Still, I can't imagine throwing her — it, the boombox — away. It still "works" perfectly. It's never given me a problem at all. Even the pop-top CD lid still functions flawlessly. In the world of boomboxes, mine is a gem. But, for now, the AZ9345 Portable Mini System with "Dynamic Bass Boost" and high-speed dubbing will stay in the closet. With yellowing report cards, blurry photographs, bad essays, miserable poems, wire coat hangers, and other dust.
Space doesn't stay empty for long. The space created by the Magnavox's departure will soon be filled by something else: the Musical Fidelity A3.5 integrated amp and CD player. For now, though, that space is occupied by another Christmas present: the Atari Flashback 2.
The Xbox 360's three separate core processors with all of their potential polygons and whatnot have got nothing on the Flashback 2's wood grain paneling.
— Heinrich Heine Hmm. My youngest sister, Briana, received a Magnavox boombox for Christmas. While she was connecting the thin black and red wires, I wondered if she'd someday be listening to her Fallout Boy and Blink-182 CDs through an Arcam Solo. I kind of wish my mom would have consulted me before buying her a boombox. I mean, what good am I if I can't make some recommendations on audio equipment? If we couldn't have sprung for a $15,000 Burmester 001, at least we could have given her my old boombox. Yesterday afternoon, I finally did it. I finally pulled the old girl out of its little wooden alcove beneath my Sharp television. For good, I think. I connected its small plastic speakers to its small plastic notches and tied its thin black and red wires in loose knots. Still, I can't imagine throwing her — it, the boombox — away. It still "works" perfectly. It's never given me a problem at all. Even the pop-top CD lid still functions flawlessly. In the world of boomboxes, mine is a gem. But, for now, the AZ9345 Portable Mini System with "Dynamic Bass Boost" and high-speed dubbing will stay in the closet. With yellowing report cards, blurry photographs, bad essays, miserable poems, wire coat hangers, and other dust.
