What are you missing, pmiller115?
First of all, and as several have already noted here, the quality of the original recording is vastly more important than the playback medium. If you've never heard the SACD versions of Fritz Reiner's 1953 "binaural" recordings (of Dvorak's "New World Symphony" and Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition"), prepare to be amazed. These "stereo" recordings were made before stereo playback devices had even been invented, much less made widely available to consumers. The detail, accuracy of instrumental timbre, even soundstage spatial specificity, are awesome in those very early recordings; far better than the majority of recordings made in the last ten years. Bottom line: if the original recording is good, it will sound good on your system, whether you play a vinyl record, a Red Book CD, an SACD, or a high-res stream.
But what about the argument that streaming allows access to tens of thousands of recordings for the price of one CD per month? My most knowledgable audiophile friend (he used to own our best stereo shop, and still writes for Stereophile) ditched his huge CD collection years ago, after ripping them all to a designated server. Last month, he unloaded his similarly huge LP collection, and sold his Oracle TT. Now, it's just streaming on his no-holds-barred audio system. Why not go down that road?
Speaking for myself, physical media for music is a lot like books. I'm a philosopher, and my house is full of books. Yes, I have laptops and tablets, and yes, I do read on those screens. But not only are old fashioned books special for lots of hard to defend reasons (the feel, the smell...), they also represent, in a very tangible way, my life and my mind. There are only so many hours in a day, and so many days in a life. The books I've read, and often re-read, are "me" in a very important sense. And I want to have them at hand—to know where they are in my house, and on their shelves, where they live; to loan them to friends when the occasion arises; to annotate them over the years we've known each other, so that when I take a book off the shelf I last read ten years ago, and first read 40 years ago, I can literally see younger versions of myself in the margins in pencil. Could I do something similar with e-books? I suppose so. But I haven't, because e-books didn't exist when I started reading.
So with music. My life isn't long enough to listen to everything that's out there. Nor do I even want to. I love music not as background, not incidentally, but as something to learn, to get to know over years and decades, to listen to again and again and again. I do still discover music new to me—both new performances of familiar pieces, and new artists, even new genres. But, despite the fact that I play several instruments, and I do have an extremely good musical memory, I need repeated listenings to really get to know a piece that I find rewards my attention. So the undeniable fact that there is a vast number of things available on streaming services is a moot point for me. I can discover new music on Bandcamp or even Youtube, and then seek out CDs on eBay for cheap of the music I want to really get to know by means of repeated listening. In short, my music library is "curated" as is my library of philosophy and literature and history. It's not just "available" in principle by maintaining a subscription, it's "mine" in a very strong sense: it has become part of my personality over a long lifetime. I would not want to surrender that, any more than I would willingly give up my identity.