In my eyes, cars aren't just machines, they're a window to another era.
They're proof that the most important parts of life, the hard parts and the beautiful parts,
always have a story to tell.
On this episode, we will be talking about the simplicity of physical media and also how
far superior a cassette deck or even a CD player in a car is than those big touch screens that
are only made to distract drivers.
Music does so much more than make people dance.
For me, music is therapy.
It stimulates deep emotions in the brain.
Beyond the emotion, music also shapes identity and culture.
Different styles reflect the history, values, and experiences of the people who create
the music, the artist.
Music can change mood, reduce stress, and even help with memory.
Even as the world tries to, you know, rip itself apart, music works to connect everyone.
My family and I love music.
It simply brings us together, whether it's going to a concert or even sat around the
record player listening to some of my parents' old vinyls.
My taste in music I like to think of as a melting pot.
There are not many genres of music that I wouldn't listen to and find appealing.
If it's good music, I'll listen to it and appreciate it.
Simple as that.
I give credit to my parents for influencing me once again, as parents so often do.
I used to love listening to music with my mother and father.
I consider myself to be pretty lucky to have access to my parents' large physical media
collection.
Both of my parents curated the vast collection of music from their parents and simply growing
up through a time that I wish I could have grown up in.
My dad in fact grew up through the evolution of physical media, going from vinyl records
to set tapes, CDs, and all the way up to digital libraries and Spotify.
My mom has well over 145 records from artists such as Al Green, Otis Redding, and The King
of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley.
Like I was saying, my father got to grow up as the evolution of physical media took place.
Starting with vinyl, of course, my dad had some classics like David Bowie's Let's Dance,
The Clashes London's Calling, and arguably one of the best soundtracks of all time,
Saturday Night Fever.
My father was a great chef.
He used to cook at Wolfgang Puck's Faggo in Beverly Hills.
The coolest story my father told me from his time working at Faggo was the time he got
to cook for Madonna and Michael Jackson.
After the two big celebrities finished their meal, Michael wanted to say thank you to
the chefs for preparing such good food, and I know my dad's cooking was probably
pretty decent.
Michael Jackson shook my father's hand and in his high-pitched Michael Jackson
voice said, Thank you, so delicious.
For something along the lines of that, my father always told variations of that story, and
always thought it doesn't get more Hollywood than that.
My father's creativity was key to his success as a chef, and even translates to his passion
for music.
Going back to the evolution of physical media, following vinyl was cassette decks, or
cassette tapes, and later on CDs came into play.
I wonder.
Many of you put together a playlist on Spotify to listen to on a long road trip.
Spotify wasn't too big when my father was growing up, but he did assemble some mix
tapes for road trips and just cruising around town.
My father's taste in music stems from his creative mind as a chef.
I remember in my dad's 1987 Toyota Land Cruiser, he always loaded up the most
creative mix tapes.
One of which was titled 80s Dance Mix, featuring many alternative bands like The Cure.
That was one of his favorites, Duran Duran, Talking Heads, and New Order.
It is hard to say it's not nice having all the music you could ever want in one place
in the palm of your hand, but nothing compares to the click from inserting a tape into
a deck.
My father probably spent a lot more time making just one tape than it took me
to make three Spotify playlists for a road trip.
That time my father sacrificed in order to make the tape shows me how much he cared.
My father was nothing but caring, he cared about my mom, my brother, me, and my little
sister.
He cared about our dog, even our little kitten.
When you lose someone that cares so much about you, it's hard to replace that,
support system, and most times you have to step into that role for yourself.
And so as my life carries on, I learn to care more about myself physically and mentally, and
also growing as a human intellectually, continuing to learn and progress in a career that I want
to pursue.
I also need to care about my hobbies.
One thing my father made clear right before he passed away was to not change a whole
lot.
Continue life with the same amount of passion that I've always had through life.
Back to my goals and my dreams and see them through.
Riding down the Great Highway, I would say sunny but foggy San Francisco day in the Land
Cruiser listening to that 80s dance mix transforms my father's care into pure unfiltered joy.
A joy that my father had shared with me and something I hold close to my heart.
I will forever be glad to have this connection with my father through music and through
the love of cars, and I'll continue playing that 80s dance mix as I cruise down the road.
Join me on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you do your podcast listening as we navigate
the miles remembered, where vintage details fuels timeless memories.
About this episode
Exploring the deep connection between music, cars, and personal memories, this episode highlights the charm of physical media like cassette decks and CDs over modern touch screens. The host shares heartfelt stories about his father's love for music and cooking, including a memorable encounter with Michael Jackson. Reflecting on how music shapes identity and evokes emotions, the episode emphasizes the importance of preserving memories through music and cars, creating a nostalgic journey that resonates with listeners.
In this episode of Miles Remembered, we drop the needle on the soundtrack of my childhood. My parents’ vinyl collection filled our home with everything from my mom’s love for Fleetwood Mac to my dad’s devotion to The Cure two worlds of music that somehow blended perfectly for our family.
Today, streaming services like Spotify make it easy to hear anything instantly, but they’ve also taken something from us: the shared experience of sitting together, choosing a record, and letting the music fill the room.
Nothing captures that feeling better than riding in my dad’s upgraded 1987 Toyota Land Cruiser, listening to his old 80s dance mix on the cassette deck. With nothing more than a simple tape and a crackling speaker, those drives became some of our most meaningful moments proof that connection doesn’t come from convenience, but from presence.
Join me as we rewind to the music that shaped us and the memories that still play on.
