I got a new toy on Wednesday. It's a Pioneer PD-F1039, also known as a 300+1 CD changer (or, as Pioneer prefers, a "file-type compact disc player"). In layman's terms, it's a 300 CD jukebox with a place where you can also play a single CD if you like.

Am I making myself clear?

Of course not. But anyway, now I have 300 CDs at my fingertips that can be played at my slightest whim. That's pretty cool. And the best part of it is that the purchase was a necessary one.

Necessary because my trusty 6-CD changer of nine years finally gave up the ghost and simply stopped believing that it actually plays compact discs. More accurately, it refused to recognize that discs were spinning in front of its laser. In other words, the laser has developed excessive myopia. You might well ask why is an operating CD player necessary, rather than something that's, say, very nice to have. Well, I review 40-80 discs a month, and that without a decent player (I do have a portable, but the sound sucks) I really can't do my (non-paying) "job."

There is also the notion that I've wanted one of these things for quite a while, and this is just a fair excuse to sate my desire. You be the judge.

My wife Barbara is convinced that we will listen to a lot less music (in terms of actual discs, not time spent with music playing) with this changer. Indeed, we used to simply roam my 5,000+ disc library and pick six discs for the evening. Of course, the selection was rarely random. John Coltrane, Branford Marsalis, the Posies, ALL, June of 44, Uncle Tupelo, Nanci Griffith (not to mention the holy trinity of Prince, Neil Young and Frank Zappa) all made frequent appearances on the playlist. The Flying Luttenbachers, Space Streakings, Charles Gayle and Gentle Giant, while quality selections, didn't make the cut nearly so often due to their, um, tendencies to express their creativity.

So, anyway, I filled the first 200 slots in the jukebox with classical, jazz and roots (this includes folk and blues, mostly), and then dropped in 90 random picks from the library. I have a feeling I'm going to be switching out that section of 90 fairly often.

It just might turn out that we listen to more music than before. The jazz section contains all of our jazz discs (close to 100), and the classical section does likewise. Plus, I feel a lot less constrained by "normalcy" when picking 90 discs as opposed to 6. One or two warped (okay, let's be honest here: random bursts of noise) tracks mixed in with 20 more regular ones don't seem to irritate Barbara nearly so much.

I spent most of Wednesday evening filling my new toy, and then I spent much of my free time the next few days reviewing CDs for the next issue of Aiding & Abetting. I have to say, the machine is very nice. I've programmed eight different "sections" of music (the player allows a total of 10) that group together and can be played in random mode (which is really the whole point of a monster CD jukebox, isn't it?). Basically, I'm enjoying this thing even more than I imagined.

I'm not sure if it's the black metal and plastic of the casing or simply the sheer size of the unit itself that pleases me. This thing is a good three inches taller and four inches deeper than my last player. I mean, the thing holds 300 CDs. Three hundred CDs, man!

Okay, it's probably the size.

This simple fact remains: The afterglow of this purchase has not burned off, and it probably won't for some time. I always forget how gratifying mindless consumerism can be.

Jon Worley expected to spend Sunday playing in the 12 to 18 inches of snow forecast for Durham, N.C. Not a single flake fell.