My son and I listened to Pearl Jam’s Ten as I took him to school this morning, and I realized I had forgotten how much I like that album. I also realized that I never bought a Nirvana album, though I think “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is right up there with “My Generation” in the Discontent Derby. It’s interesting that so much of our lives is now preserved and, occasionally, revivified by digital storage and retrieval. I sometimes feel as if I’m surrounded by time capsules, some of them half-buried, some of them in unmarked graves that patiently wait for the day they’ll give me a shovelful of shock.