By Robin Kaye I was reading a blog recently and the author mentioned finding a box of his cassette tapes, most of which were mix-tapes. My mind immediately went back to my teenage days when conversations revolved around who liked who, how lame Barry Manilow was, and how hot Jim Morrison looked before he died. Now, he died well before I was into him and the Doors, but still, you have to admit he sure looked hot before he died…well, maybe not just before he died, but you know what I mean. Back then, if I was not making mix-tapes, I was listening to the tapes my boyfriend dejour, best friend, or I made. What about you? Do you remember the hours you spent picking the favorite songs? Wondering what the guy you were crushing on, or a guy you were dating—would think of your hard work. If a guy made me a mix-tape, I knew he was hooked. Why I didn’t think the same rule pertained to me is still a mystery. Making a mix-tape for someone was a big deal. It wasn’t something you made for a casual da...
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