Disposable.

In recalling my days in high school, I remember going to parties where groups of us would be gathered around the turn-table, listening to the latest album by Steely Dan or Chicago or some-such. We'd look over the cover and in some cases, check out the lyrics printed inside. When the album was done, we'd slip it back in the stacks, adding it to our collection of great music.

When CDs became the standard, things hadn't changed too much. The printing was smaller and we didn't have to flip the darn thing over to hear the whole "album," but basically it was the same. The CD would display nicely among the collection of music.

Today's youth don't know this feeling.

In today's disposable society, everything is temporary. Music is downloaded in compressed form, stored digitally in a device that is more compact than my wallet, and when the listener is through, the music is deleted and more is downloaded. Quantity and an ever-changing rotation of songs is what is important.

But when you visit a friend's home, how can you check out their music collection? What can you tell about a person simply by seeing an iPod on their coffee table? You can check out how many songs are in their playlist, and maybe the title of a song or two, but that's it.

Same goes for books. How can you check out someone's bookshelf when their books are in digital form as e-books? And what does the reader do when they are done with an e-book? They delete it, as if it doesn't exist except as a memory or something that was once read.

Perhaps it's because I'm a pack rat and I enjoy having my music on a shelf where I can look it over and select the music that fits my mood (or shapes my mood) for the day; and that I proudly display the books that I enjoy reading for every visitor to see, but I don't think I care much for the temporariness in today's pop culture.

Perhaps the entire culture will be tossed aside for something new and the entire digital age will be deleted.