The Day My Music Died

Curse You, Not-so-Smart Phones and The Cloud, Too!

The Day My Music Died

Some people like to listen to music as background noise. Not me. To me, music is sacrosanct. I listen to music with an almost religious intensity. Yet, recently, there was a crisis in my musical life. The day started out normal. Peaceful. But when it ended, it was the day my music died.

It was a music lover’s nightmare. My entire music collection disappeared from my phone, my computer, AND from “The Cloud.”

The Day My Music Died

The saga began because, after five-plus years of loyal service, my iPhone’s battery finally was ready to give up the ghost. So, reluctantly, I purchased a new phone. I refused the “latest,” “fastest,” “best-est” iPhone 13. I’m superstitious and avoid anything with the number 13. So, I opted for the iPhone 12. Now I’m thinking of avoiding the number 12.

Supposedly all my beloved music was transferred to the new phone — at least that’s what the Apple store salesperson assured me. Handsome Hubby studied the data details on my new sleek phone/sound machine and repeatedly said to the salesperson, “I don’t think everything’s there.” The salesperson repeatedly assured him it was.

HH was right! All my music was gone. Worse yet, saved voice messages from deceased loved ones were also missing.

We got home and somehow everything was wiped clean off the computer as well. And as for the almighty “Cloud” — my music was gone — gone — GONE — from there too.

Shouting, cursing, tears ensued.

CDs and Albums Forever!

Fortunately, through all our moves cross country and in-between, I held on to my CDs (and a lot of my records) as fiercely as I had to my firstborn child. But that didn’t cover the missing family voice messages and the hours I had spent burning those CDs and albums into a digital format. Curse you, inept Apple employee. Curse you, technological change!

The truth is: I prefer listening to music the old-fashioned way — the way God and audiophiles intended it to be listened to — on record players, or at the very least, on CD players.

Of course, when you live in a tech-savvy family and world, that is increasingly difficult to do. You know how it goes. First, they come for your speakers and sound systems. Then, they come for your cars! At least, that’s how it was in our house, and I imagine yours too.

For years, I found “them” — my family, technology, and the world in general — lording over my listening habits. First, the speakers in the house were deemed too bulky and there was no stylish place for the stereo system. Then, record/CD stores became endangered/extinct species.

The Tech Invasion

And although my commitment to music on plastic was steadfast, I eventually bowed to peer pressure (i.e., family). Gifted with my first iPhone, I “burned” all my CDs onto the computer so I could play my music on my smartphone. How cool. How convenient. And oh, how “smart.”

And it was convenient. I, a nervous air traveler, could even listen to music on airplanes! How soothing!

Still, in my Luddite mind, what’s better than holding up an album record, admiring the artwork, and remembering when you actually walked into a music store and made the purchase? Or pulling out the record sleeve and singling along to the songs.

After we replaced the big speakers at home with a sleek, Siri-controlled Sonos system, I continued listening to favorite CDs in the car. Periodically Handsome Hubby and I talked about buying a new car. We had bought our trusty Toyota Hybrid Highlander in 2006. BUT I resisted. I knew what that meant. In the intervening years, cars, like phones, had gotten smart. They no longer had CD players! A new car would spell the death knell for my beloved CDs.

My Final CD Haven is Breeched

Finally, in December 2020, it happened. We were forced to get a new car. It came about in a most unexpected, decidedly unpleasant way. Our car was stolen. Recovered weeks later, it was completely smashed and trashed. The only thing left inside? You guessed it — my CDs. The thieves didn’t want them!

So, now we have an all-electric car, my energy-efficient husband’s dream. The Mustang Mach-E has all the bells and whistles HH’s save-the-planet heart desires. But, of course, it doesn’t have a CD player for little old-fashioned me.

Now, I’m “burning” my CDs for a second time. And I’m burning lots of time on this labor-intensive digital conversion task. I’m also doing a slow burn, fuming about the failure of the much vaulted “Cloud” and the backup systems my tech-savvy family promised me we had in place to prevent such a data crisis. Mostly, of course, I’m cursing that nameless Apple store salesperson who mishandled my phone transfer.

BUT for once, I’m patting myself on the back! Thank goodness I hung on to my venerated CDs and records. Sometimes, Luddite Mom does know best.

And soon, the music that died will be reborn, although as-of-yet, no one has explained to me how to transfer my digital domain from the computer to the phone — and then to the fancy-schmancy all-electric car! I guess I’d better be nice to the tech gurus of my life, at least for now!

Meanwhile, curse you, technology. Curse you!

🎵 🎵 🎵

Before closing, I would be remiss to end this lament without noting its inspiration — Don McLean’s hit song, American Piewith its unforgettable lyrics about “The day the music died.” I played that song so many times on my record player, I practically wore down the groves!

Finally, this week’s image is from our home. It’s a wall of album covers we have framed. As for that perfectly aligned grid? Don’t ask how many hours it took Handsome Hubby to hang! Let’s just say, a lot!


1 reply
  1. Deane Clary Geier
    Deane Clary Geier says:

    Ain’t technology grand – when it works? A lesson to us all. So glad you clung to some original oldies.


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