This past weekend I was rummaging through the cabinet that houses my CD collection. I needed to swap out the half-dozen or so that had been hanging out in my car’s glove box, so I brought those in and looked for a couple to replace them. These CDS are arranged in alphabetical order by name of artists…and in the case of multiple CDs from the same artists, I arrange them in chronological order based on the date of release of that particular album.
OK…so I’m organized.
Anyway, I’m flipping through the jewel cases, selecting the ones that I wish to have at the ready when…what do I see, smack dab in the middle of the second row? Why, none other than a Barry Manilow CD.
I’ll give you a moment to regain your composure
Yes. There, to my horror, nestled in with my Beatles CDs, my Pink Floyd CDs, my Rolling Stones, Rush, Dire Straights, Led Zeppelin, U2, Janis Joplin, Elton John, (pre-1980s stuff, mind you), REM, Peter Gabriel, B-52s and other fine assorted CDs was