I got an ipod for Hannukah. I asked my husband for it, and he obliged.
Why? Well, I felt old not having an mp3 player, not having those earbuds in my head, not understanding what the fuss was all about.
My daughter was a little shocked that I wanted one. I don’t think she views me as hoplessly antiquated, but this was a surprise to her.
I think the main reason I wanted this new toy is because I’m sick of what’s on the car radio and I am a menace rifling through cds while driving.
So why not?
It is such a slim, elegant thing. And I’m a sucker for the ads. Maybe it’ll turn me on to new musicians and new music.
The reality is not as simple as the concept. The machine requires energy time and a zillion choices and mastery of downloading and dial-spinning. Thank goodness for my friend Steve, who told me he felt the same misgivings at first, but is now a total acolyte, in love with the music he’s discovered, happy as a clam with very cool music inside the shell.
Last night, I walked the dog with my new ipod in my ears. (Grateful for the amazing new earphones S. gave me) I listened to an old favorite, a familiar track by Rickie Lee Jones, and heard dimensions in the drums and bass and in her performance that had never been there before… at least not for me.
So maybe I’ll fall in love with my ipod, after all. I’ve already figured out how to use the “import” command.