Cases or sleeves? That is the question.

It's been a while since I've written, but I thought I wrote something in e-mail today that was so brilliant that I had to share it for the edification of humanity.

A little background...
We're currently trying to figure out the CD case for my (former) band's record. The choices are jewel-cases or sleeves (which are more earthy). Nate sent an e-mail to inquire as to our thoughts regarding this important decision. I have included Nate's original e-mail and then my response below that.

Here is Nate's original e-mail. Quite entertaining in itself:

So, give me your pros and cons on:

CD Jewel Cases

CD Sleeves

Jewel cases are expensive, really expensive...and they (the manufacturers) seem to nickel and dime you on jewel cases. Example, I found a site (diskfaktory.com) that offers 300 jewels for like $700...but that doesn't include color printing on the disc itself, that's an extra $150. And that was the cheapest (not necessarily the best quality) site I found.

Sleeves, on the other hand, are MUCH cheaper. discmakers.com (supposedly a reputable site, from what I've heard) offers 1,000 sleeves for around $900...a much better deal. I guess my main question to you twos has to do with your opinion on sleeves.

One last point...I think that since we made a self-financed indie album, we could get away with doing sleeves...people will most likely say, "Oh look, sleeves, these look and probably are cheaper than jewel cd's...but I guess that's probably because this is an indie album, and yeah like whatever, we're totally buying it for the music, not for the album case...oh my god Stacey I love your new shoes..." Anyway, you get the point, after the initial reaction, they probably won't care anymore.

WHATCHA Think? -Nate


My response:

This reminds me of the time my mom and I went out to this old dirty barn in the country where these hippies lived and fed themselves with the food from their vegetable garden. For a living, they sold ocarinas which are little clay, ovular-shaped flutes. They valued the good stuff in life... bare feet, good music, long hair, tie-dyed t-shirts, Phish, herbal supplements and large amounts of wheat and other grasses. It was the good life. I can't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure the guy's name was Steve. But I think he tried to go by Stephen at one point -- he had said something about how the "ph" seemed more earthy and organic than Steve. But there was a simplicity to the name Steve that he appreciated just as well. He and his wife had two kids, who happened to also have bare feet, long hair, and large amounts of dirt caked in various bodily crevices. To get down to their house you had to take an old dirt road, down past Harry's BBQ off of Highway 15 and Old High Shoals Road. You knew you were getting close when you passed the old broken mail box with the rusty faux-tin roof that kept the rain out on the stormy summer days. Those were the good days. There were times when it would rain so hard that we would huddle under blankets and watch the sky light up with those stark lightning bolts -- the kind you normally see in old black and white movies -- before we got all this lighting technology that have since rendered thunderstorms in film so fake-looking. I remember this one day in particular when mom had just gotten back from the farmer's market with a fresh batch of peaches and cantaloupe. The smell of fresh fruit in summer was one of my favorite memories as a child. Shortly after she got home, the sky began to darken. It wasn't too long before we began to hear the clap of thunder in the distance and the rain started slowly pelting the window - first one at a time, and then so hard that it became rhythmic and would often send me into a deep, summer afternoon nap. We just sat there looking out of the window at that dark sky eating fresh sliced cantalope. Then mom would read us a story from her Uncle Remus book that had been passed down from her mother. A young boy never knew so much joy.

Anyway, I actually bought one of those ocarinas that day from Steve. Still have it actually. It sits on my dresser at home. Sometimes, on a lonely rainy day, I look at that old ocarina and think of Steve and his wife and kids and wonder what it would be like to live like Steve and his family. They didn't have much. But they had a lot of things that I didn't have at the same time. And I wonder if they really needed or even wanted what my family had. Something about that ocarina takes me back to my roots and reminds me of what Steve thought was important. And makes me wonder if we could all learn a thing or two from him.

Kyle

P.S. You should go with the sleeves.