The rush I get from ordering a new (or used) cd is a reflection of the experiences I anticipate will later come. And honestly--- and this is a trait I've inherited from my dad--- I can't figured out which I love more: listening to new music, or possessing new music. The obvious pleasure comes in the listening, but there's something magical in holding that jewel case, in setting up a long-term home for the cd in my rack (In my dad's case, this is an entire wall. Have I mentioned we have over 5,000 cds back home?), in scrolling through the pictures and liner notes of the album sleeve, in the mere knowledge that I have this fifty-minute sample of another person's art in my grasp.

In a few days, there will be times when Rufus Wainwright's voice is soaring out my car, times when Rosie Thomas's humming will distract my studying, and times when I'll be sitting in my bed just looking at the cds in my right and left hand. And I'm not gonna figure out if I enjoyed holding them or playing them more, because that's like trying to figure out how The West Wing won a fourth consecutive Emmy.