"Ode to the Mixed Tape"

The last time I made a mixed tape was in 1999. I was a freshman in high school, it was Sunday morning, Casey Kasem was counting down America’s Top 40, and I was waiting for Number One. I was waiting patiently, busying myself with mundane tasks of teenage girldom—cleaning my room, doing some homework, and talking on the phone to whoever my current BFF was at the time. I was waiting for America’s deejay to introduce Number One so that I could add it to my personal audio canon, “Resalin’s Favorite Songs”, my very own, homemade, mixed tape.

I used to make mixed tapes all the time. There was a point in my life when I always had a cued, blank tape in the deck so that when I heard the opening notes of a favorite song, I could sprint to the stereo and simultaneously hit the PLAY and REC button. The audio quality was not so good (but what else was I supposed to do?) The tapes sounded grainy and my cheap stereo did not have the high-tech capability of filtering out background noise so there was always some rustling, talking, or coughing in the background. But the most annoying recording imperfection was the opening screech—I hated that sound. To me, that grinding sound is worse than hearing nails on a chalkboard, as painful to me as chewing tin foil.

I started making mixed tapes in the Philippines. I would record myself talking and singing and then my Nanay (grandmother) would send the tape to my mom who lived in Texas. That’s what we did. While I remember corresponding through letters, packages, and phone, I mostly remember the tapes. They were of course more personal, certainly more time consuming, and definitely more embarrassing. There was always a crowd gathered around the tape recorder, eavesdropping on the one-way communication. It was a performance, like Karaoke but worse because I wasn’t just singing the words that lit up on the screen: I had to come up with your own material. Questions and Insecurities. What would she want to hear from me? What if she thinks I’m boring? What if she doesn’t like my voice?

It has been a long time since I made or gotten a mixed tape. I think the last mixed tape given to me was circa Yanni and “Satellite” from Dave Matthews Band. Even if I wanted to rewind the past a bit to nurture my nostalgic side, I fear that the invention of the compact disc, CD, has made the cassette obsolete. Also, user-friendly programs like iTunes have improved quality and amped up convenience. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and there will be thousands…millions of people popping in a mixed CD filled with slow jams, thoughtful acoustic guitar, and heartfelt lyrics. And I’m not a traditionalist; I’ve burned my fair share of mixed CDs and they are one of my favorite presents to give and receive. But my mom is the only person to ever receive a “Resalin” mixed-tape original.