I've got a confession to make - I've committed a serious infidelity, a heartless betrayal of one of my truest companions. A few weeks ago, just before returning to Arizona, I bought a portable CD player, complete with adapters and headphones and a remote control, should I ever find myself at the gym (yeah, right). Most importantly, my shiny new toy connects right to my car stereo. And that's where the betrayal comes in.

I've never been exactly what you'd call "high-tech": I was the last person in my freshman dorm to own a CD player, and spent most of that year trying to complete my homework assignments on a 1988 Macintosh Classic, one of those boxy little old-school Macs best suited for use as a fishbowl. I'm doing slightly better these days, but my current computer is already hurtling toward obsolescence. And the telephone I use is a marvel of modern science purchased by my grandmother sometime back around 1986.