Flashback Friday

At present, I'm dying for one of these.

Mostly because I have one of these.  It's a loaner that doesn't work very well, used to belong to someone else { whose dog clearly confused it with a chew toy } and it's getting on my nerves.

{ Bertha is not nearly this shiny. }

Rumor has it that in the next few weeks I'll be able to trade in Bertha the Blackberry for an iPhone.  { Just a little while longer, Bertha!  You can do it! }  Something about our corporate email being transferred over to a new system.  Now I don't know what that means, but I hope it happens soon.  Then people who call will hear more than every other word that I say.  { Oh and I can play Angry Birds. NBD. }

Here I am complaining about carrying a relatively small and lightweight piece of technology, and it wasn't that long ago there were only these.

{ Yeah, Zack Morris! }

Yes, the cell phone has come a long way.  As has personal music.  Remember these?

I definitely had this exact little red Walkman.  With little red headphones.  I think Santa Claus brought it to me along with a cassette tape of  the soundtrack to The Little Mermaid.  This baby was a lifesaver when driving from south Florida all the way to middle Georgia.  { Nine hours in an Astro van with two kids and a dog. Entertainment was essential.  Sorry, Mom, for singing NKOTB all the way to Ocala that one time. }

And when my tape player died, I got one of these.

I'm pretty sure I thought I was a rockstar when Santa moved into the 20th century.  { I did love the Star Stage, after all. }  You just had to hold on tight if we hit a bump or your *NSYNC CD might skip.

And in college I caved and bought one of these.  My roommate had one and I was jealous.

Kmart in Athens was going out of business and I think I paid $50 for the thing.  And that was the sale price.  { Now the old Kmart is a Hobby Lobby.  Major improvement! }  I ran up and down Milledge Avenue wearing my sorority t-shirt and this hip little radio.  Too bad it was so heavy and would always manage to scoot it's way down to my elbow every five minutes.  { The three times I ran on Milledge, that is. }

Everything just keeps getting smaller and faster and fancier.  Maybe Bertha's not so bad after all. : )