Recently I've been buying quite a few CD's online, during those impulsive amazon.com adventures that many of us are all too familiar with, and I've come to wonder why they make them so incredibly difficult to open. Why just today, I go to check the mailbox and, to my surprise, a new cardboard package awaits! (This is a feigned surprise. Big brown envelopes and cardboard boxes in my mail used to catch me off guard. But I have recently been buying new music with such regularity, however, that I'm now conditioned to expect a package in my little gray box.) My mind instantly begins tracing through the last few days, trying to recall what I might have bought. Maybe I heard a cool, crisp trumpet note ring in my ear. Perhaps a Latin beat got me dancing. Or maybe an acoustic guitar touched my soul. Who knows...
Anyways, as I was saying, these CD's are wrapped in tight plastic wrappers that would challenge Houdini. It's almost as if they want you to go through a period of pain and suffering just before that first wonderful note hits your ears. Throughout the last few weeks of battling with these plastic foes, I've come to realize that an activity as simple as opening a CD can teach you plenty about persistence, determination and ingenuity...
Upon first sight of my newly acquired compact disc, my heart begins to pound. The sheer anticipation of the musical splendor that awaits inside is enough to raise my pulse. My breaths become faster and more shallow. My hands tremble. I become slightly dizzy and sit down to compose myself. "This is an important moment," I tell myself. "Appreciating music is a serious matter. I must be fully functional and coherent before I proceed." I am too eager however, and begin clawing away at the plastic while still in a euphoric trance.
I begin by scratching at the little corners where the plastic overlaps. This is the most logical place to start, and it seemingly presents the highest chances for success. Nevertheless, after several minutes of relentless scratching, scraping and clawing, these little corners remain intact, their diagonal lines joining to create a diabolical smile laughing at my futile attempts. I take a moment to catch my breath and briefly tend to my bleeding fingernails before proceeding.
Before long, I find myself loaded with an arsenal of tools to aid in my efforts. Knives, scissors, letter openers and screwdrivers lie before me on the desk, like a surgeon's instruments. Slice! Whack! Bam! The battle is now fully underway, and neighbors have come out to investigate the loud noises. Rip! Screech! Progress is being made, but slowly and painfully. People begin muttering amongst themselves, placing bets on which side will come out victorious.
Pop! Crackle! In a momentous turn of events, the plastic nemesis yelps for mercy, then loudly proclaims defeat in a long, crackling cacophony that brings the audience to a roar. After the difficult and tumultuous encounter, the enemy is finally overcome and yields no more. A few more twists and turns, and the end is near in sight.
Finally, the plastic villain lies disfigured on the floor, strewn about like shattered glass. He mutters out a few last words, but nobody can understand what is said, and he soon goes silent. The crowd takes a moment to honor the courage and valor displayed by the enemy...
And then rises in roaring approval of their hero! "I told you he could do it!" "Did you see that move at the end?" Children shout joyously, neighbors hug each other and everyone begins dancing and celebrating.
I take another moment to fully grasp what has just happened. I replay the battle in my mind, over and over, analyzing each move in detail. I triumphantly hold up the newly-freed CD case and bask in the victory I have just achieved. "Now," I tell myself, "this is the moment of truth."
I attempt to open the case, but it won't budge! I inspect carefully, and find, much to my horror, another enemy! A long, skinny sticker all the way across the top!!!
Exhausted and dejected, I fall to my knees, lower my head and accept defeat...
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