Permission to Love The 1984 Sony Walkman

After saving my hard-earned money for months, I finally had enough to buy it—the brand new, bright yellow, Sport Sony Walkman. Man, I loved that 1984 Sony Walkman!

I remember listening to U2’s Joshua Tree album (cassette tape) on it.

My Sony Walkman went places with me and it looked great hanging on my belt (only problem: it was 6lbs and made my pants fall off).

It played my favorite hits of the 80’s.

Did I mention that I loved my 1984 Sony Walkman?

Fast forward—time moved on…

Things changed, as they always do.

Technology progressed.

Eventually, they stopped selling cassette players and cassettes.

CD’s were the new thing.

Soon my precious ’84 Sony Walkman was a clunker.

Next came the digital revolution.

MP3’s.

The iPod.

Still today, I have fond memories of my 1984 yellow Sony Walkman.

Heck, I’ll even give myself permission to love it… but I’d be an absolute fool to hate what replaced it.

Seriously, the iPod I have today isn’t just better than my ’84 Sony Walkman—it’s better than my first computer!

Here’s what I’m driving at…

You can love ____________ (fill in the blank) from the past, but you would be a fool to hate what took its place.

You have permission to love the 1984 Sony Walkman (or whatever it is from the past that you have fond memories of— a technology, a song, a method, a style, traditions, a building, a format, an arrangement, relationships, etc.).

This is the real kicker…

While you have permission to love the 1984 Sony Walkman, you also have a responsibility to embrace the new!

Permission to love the old; responsibility to embrace the new.

Remember: yesterday’s home run won’t win today’s game.