Over the last five years, my CD collection has grown tremendously. I would like to believe greater musical awareness and appreciation nurtured its development, but I fear it simply stemmed from the poor pairing of financial independence and extremely bad taste. Unfortunately, as the collection grew, favorites emerged and an increasing number of albums were neglected.

A CD, by its very nature, wants to be played. It enjoys being heard. Spinning inside a player, whether in a car or on an armband, is sheer bliss for a little disc. How sullen it becomes when it returns to the cramped confines of a jewel case.

One day, as I walked by the CD carousel, something caused me to pause. I could sense the yearning of every disc and guilt overcame me. How could I continue listening to the favored few while the rest remained silent? At that moment, I decided to reacquaint myself and spend some quality time with each one. With any luck, I will finish listening to the entire collection sometime in February.