Tuesday, January 15, 2008

requiem for an ipod

The first signs of an imminent death appeared as we sped along the BQE towards Brooklyn. I was with a friend, and her English friend who just had a jelly doughnut from Dunkin' Donuts for the first time. EVER. We were having a sing along to Mika, when the ipod stopped working. After a few attempts to restart it and hold it in positions only a yogi could master, we turned to hot 97 for the duration of the trip. Upon arriving at my friend's apartment, I immediately consulted the Apple Support pages. Repeatedly pressing the menu and select buttons to restore, as if I was on Grey's and trying frantically to get a heart beating again. Oh, she just kept redlining, with the sad ipod face.

The next morning, I attempted to squeeze a bit of life out of her. While navigating my way back to Connecticut, I willed her to work. "Please, some Journey or even the Bangles! How about a This American Life podcast!! JUST PLAY SOMETHING!!!" On my lunch break, I went to the Genius Bar and asked him to call it. He looked at my quizzically, and I handed over my ipod. "Just call it," I said, defeated. He took one look at it and smiled sympathetically at me. He tried a few things, and handed it back saying "It's gone". I looked down at my ipod, the first to have the click wheel and sighed. I walked back to the library, with my new paperweight nestled in my pocket.

Oh, my dear sweet sweet ipod. We certainly had some good times together. You arrived all shiny and new from China in the Fall of 2004 just as I was starting library school. We went everywhere together, and you were a most perfect and agreeable companion. Always there with the perfect song whenever I needed it most. These were the days of the early majority, and we'd have ipod parties. "Have you listened to Thrice? Oh man, you'll love them!" and "These Darkness B-sides are killer!"

You'd accompany me on road trips to Maine, and those long drives to Boston for Business Reference. You were there when Llama and drove cross country, when the first song we listened to every morning was Siouxie And The Banshees' "Hong Kong Garden". You were there through the relationship woes, as I sat on the rocks at the beach, melancholy listening to "When Doves Cry" and The Cure. After an early spring trip to Europe, I added Joni Mitchell, Amy Winehouse and Arcade Fire and rediscovered that part of me absolutely loved music, and discovering new music. This was a part of me I neglected for so long! You provided all the embarrassing hip hop music I love to listen to while working out, with more than 130 beats per minute, helping me through that final mile, and letting me walk it off the hour run to Queens "We are the Champions."

Ahh, yes, true sweet first ipod. You have been a great friend and companion, and have been with me through good times and bad times. It is with great sadness that I say goodbye. My life has been revolutionized by having the perfect personalized soundtrack with me at all times. Now when I strut down the street, I can strut to KT Tunstall's "Suddenly I See" a la The Devil Wears Prada or Tori Amos' "Siren". And thanks to iTunes and the crazy 80s mixes I was obsessed with making in college, I have all the one hit wonders I could ever want. The perfect song to jump start a party (Baby Got Back anyone?), or listen to in the subdued lighting while drinking a glass of wine (how about a little Belle and Sebastian?).

Dear sweet third generation ipod, you will be missed. I am sorry I took you running so many times, as I think that was the cause of your life sustaining injuries. Oh why did you have a hard drive?! Why wasn't there the foresight for flash memory!!!?? Though, as you are resting in ipod heaven, I think you'd be happy to know that I have two ipods now. I bought a bright hot pink shuffle for running, something to wear on my person. She is great at providing the hip hop and rock jams when I am running, and podcasts while on the train to New York. So tiny and just enough of space. And just this past week, I welcomed the ipod touch into my home. She is sleek and oh so sexy, with an elegant touch screen, room for photographs, and best of all a wifi browser. I know that my ipods and I will be very happy, and I will always remember you, my first.

4 comments:

ben said...

this made me want to dig out my first iPod and cuddle it. ah, our technology relationships. long term as they may be, they are destined for obsolescence. such a letdown. what to do with that dead iPod, that first PowerBook, that ahead of it's time 1.5 megapixel camera...

as i was reading, i could totally hear you recite these words. one day, i will hear your voice and your thoughts on npr.

SaxTeacher said...

Very cute. I had the same reaction when my first ipod dropped out of an airplane over Kansas (long story...) but the end result was - it survived! So don't give up hope - instead see http://tinyurl.com/ypy4pb

Reblogga said...

This is absolutely hilarious, and anyone who saw you during this sad time, you've captured it perfectly! You are too funny, person.

Jennylish. said...

what a beautiful tribute! you've captured perfectly my very same experience and I've had that wonderful moment when you read something and are shocked to learn that someone else knows exactly, EXACTLY, how you felt.