In the mid-80s, my parents attempted to launch an annual summer vacation tradition. The results were ... mixed. We'd pile into the car for two weeks on the road, operating on a strict budget. Along the way, I became familiar with the full spectrum of cheap American motel chains — starting at the bottom with the grim Econo Lodge, stepping up through the more tolerable Super 8 and Motel 6, and peaking with the Days Inn, which to me might as well have been the Ritz-Carlton.
We traveled in a 1975 Pontiac Ventura — basically a knockoff Chevy Nova — proudly coated in a shade best described as Shit Brown. The car's state-of-the-art audio system? An AM-only analog radio.
To fill the sonic void, my sister and I brought along a SoundDesign 4366 portable cassette recorder, a device known for delivering sound that was flat and tinny. But the real issue was the depth of our road-trip music library: four cassettes. Just four. Madonna's debut album, Wham! - Make It Big, Springsteen's Born in the U.S.A., and Led Zeppelin IV. Four albums. Two weeks.
This experience taught me the value of a well-stocked music library. Soon after, we joined the Columbia House subscription club (12 albums for a penny!) and eventually I got a Walkman, now free to curate a collection that reflected my own tastes and curiosity.