I stood in the record store while Mary thumbed through the countless albums stacked on the shelves. As we wound our way up and down each aisle, Mary looking for that one specific record she was missing but could never find, I listened to the owner justifying the store’s existence to every customer that came to the counter.

“Vinyl just sounds better,” he said. “Simple as that.”

“You’ll always need physical media. Always,” he said to the man next in line.

Each customer agreed politely with the owner, then happily left the store with their records in hand.

When it was our turn at the counter, I asked the owner for directions to a restaurant nearby that Mary and I had heard about and wanted to try.

“Sorry, man. I don’t know how to get there,” said the owner.

“That’s all right,” I said. “My iPod has GPS.”