Supplanting the Jukebox.

I was just listening to a track on YouTube and a thought occurred to me.

I move a piece of plastic around with my right hand, press a button, and up comes the music. It’s the same music I once listened to only after I’d put some money into a jukebox. I suppose that’s progress.

Did I ever tell the story of being shown into a room in a sorority house in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where the only ‘furniture’ was a jukebox in the corner? And the two girls who didn't speak but ate a lot? I think I did.

Skip that one. It’s bed time.