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I have succumbed at last to Apple's belligerently youth-oriented marketing machine. I have bought my first iPod. Not just any iPod, but the Nano, the sexiest, sleekest, hottest incarnation of portable audio equipment ever known to man.
It really hasn't been a challenge to hold out this long. Honestly I leave the house so infrequently and I already have a minidisc player (remember those, anyone?) that I fully believed met all my palm-sized audio needs. It started as a flippant, offhand joke in an email to my friend Gerry while I tried guessing the "splendiferous freebie" he wanted to send me in the mail. It then quickly fermented into a full-blown aching NEED over the holiday weekend when evidently no one in Southern California saw a doctor at all, leaving me with hour after hour free of any reports to type and a twitchy eBay finger. This is always a disastrous recipe for my bank account.
An iPod would change my life. If I had an iPod I would dance everywhere I went and become healthy, trim and sexy (yes, I'm using this adjective a lot. The Nano demands it). Furthermore I would dance like the iPod Silhouettes and no one would be able to resist me. I would finally listen to the backlog of CDs my friend Jeffy keeps making me. I could even listen to SnapeCast (see icon)! I could finally overcome the limitations of my ghetto-ass car CD changer, that inexplicably can shuffle the songs of a disc but not the discs themselves, a problem I suddenly found intolerable. When I go back to England someday to visit Jeffy won't it be fabulous to carry this credit card-sized player instead of a bag full of minidiscs? And lastly, the Nano could easily be smuggled into inventories for my listening pleasure (more later), because 11 hours in an Albertson's with Phil Collins, Michael Bolton and Celine Dion on an endless cycle is enough to drive anyone round the twist.
The thought that this new desire was nothing more than me grasping futilely at my vanishing youth won't bear close scrutiny.
Yes, the Nano's sex appeal was undeniable. But was it perfect? I turned to Amazon's reviewers for advice; after all, they had effectively squashed my previous aching need for a Motorola Razr. Most people liked the Nano, with the exception of a few doomsayers who complained about the easy scratchability and alarming decrease in battery life after a few uses. I tried to be fair and look at other players but the reviews weren't as numerous or informative and, let's face it, nothing else comes close to the Nano's physical allure in this price range. I was especially haunted by someone who claimed to buy several cheaper players before finally being satisfied with the Nano. This hit uncomfortably close to home, for this is how I shop: I tiptoe around what I really want trying to save money, then ultimately get it anyway after spending enough to buy it twice over.
I won't bore you with the details of my eBaying adventures; suffice to say one or two cherry deals slipped through my fingers, that's how hot the bidding action is on iPods. The one I ended up with I stole from 2 hopeful bidders using Buy It Now, making my victory all the sweeter. Suckers! The seller described it only as "in excellent condition," which made me a bit nervous. But he was including about 50 bucks' worth of accessories so I figured he must have really, really loved his iPod, hopefully translating to a practically new machine.
I hate the post office. Despite the package being tracked in the Denver area on Monday morning when I had the entire day off, they sat on it until Tuesday, when I worked 13 hours with barely time to eat, let alone play with new toys. Stupid lazy post office.
My hopes that it wasn't that scratched were in vain. The included case clearly was bought as a very delayed afterthought by this guy (and was ugly opaque white silicone and went directly into the trash). I'm trying to convince myself that I've cleverly spared myself the horror of dropping a brand new shiny unit for the first time (which has actually already happened and I didn't come the slightest bit unglued, as I otherwise doubtlessly would have). And from certain angles, in very low light, it does look shiny and new.
Apart from this and the apparently indelible designation "Emily's iPod" on the display, it works perfectly and I guess that's all that matters. And once I put it in the black anodized metal case I bought from eBay (shyeah!), no one will be the wiser that it's scratched up worse than the discs we get from Netflix.
Let the good times roll.
It really hasn't been a challenge to hold out this long. Honestly I leave the house so infrequently and I already have a minidisc player (remember those, anyone?) that I fully believed met all my palm-sized audio needs. It started as a flippant, offhand joke in an email to my friend Gerry while I tried guessing the "splendiferous freebie" he wanted to send me in the mail. It then quickly fermented into a full-blown aching NEED over the holiday weekend when evidently no one in Southern California saw a doctor at all, leaving me with hour after hour free of any reports to type and a twitchy eBay finger. This is always a disastrous recipe for my bank account.
An iPod would change my life. If I had an iPod I would dance everywhere I went and become healthy, trim and sexy (yes, I'm using this adjective a lot. The Nano demands it). Furthermore I would dance like the iPod Silhouettes and no one would be able to resist me. I would finally listen to the backlog of CDs my friend Jeffy keeps making me. I could even listen to SnapeCast (see icon)! I could finally overcome the limitations of my ghetto-ass car CD changer, that inexplicably can shuffle the songs of a disc but not the discs themselves, a problem I suddenly found intolerable. When I go back to England someday to visit Jeffy won't it be fabulous to carry this credit card-sized player instead of a bag full of minidiscs? And lastly, the Nano could easily be smuggled into inventories for my listening pleasure (more later), because 11 hours in an Albertson's with Phil Collins, Michael Bolton and Celine Dion on an endless cycle is enough to drive anyone round the twist.
The thought that this new desire was nothing more than me grasping futilely at my vanishing youth won't bear close scrutiny.
Yes, the Nano's sex appeal was undeniable. But was it perfect? I turned to Amazon's reviewers for advice; after all, they had effectively squashed my previous aching need for a Motorola Razr. Most people liked the Nano, with the exception of a few doomsayers who complained about the easy scratchability and alarming decrease in battery life after a few uses. I tried to be fair and look at other players but the reviews weren't as numerous or informative and, let's face it, nothing else comes close to the Nano's physical allure in this price range. I was especially haunted by someone who claimed to buy several cheaper players before finally being satisfied with the Nano. This hit uncomfortably close to home, for this is how I shop: I tiptoe around what I really want trying to save money, then ultimately get it anyway after spending enough to buy it twice over.
I won't bore you with the details of my eBaying adventures; suffice to say one or two cherry deals slipped through my fingers, that's how hot the bidding action is on iPods. The one I ended up with I stole from 2 hopeful bidders using Buy It Now, making my victory all the sweeter. Suckers! The seller described it only as "in excellent condition," which made me a bit nervous. But he was including about 50 bucks' worth of accessories so I figured he must have really, really loved his iPod, hopefully translating to a practically new machine.
I hate the post office. Despite the package being tracked in the Denver area on Monday morning when I had the entire day off, they sat on it until Tuesday, when I worked 13 hours with barely time to eat, let alone play with new toys. Stupid lazy post office.
My hopes that it wasn't that scratched were in vain. The included case clearly was bought as a very delayed afterthought by this guy (and was ugly opaque white silicone and went directly into the trash). I'm trying to convince myself that I've cleverly spared myself the horror of dropping a brand new shiny unit for the first time (which has actually already happened and I didn't come the slightest bit unglued, as I otherwise doubtlessly would have). And from certain angles, in very low light, it does look shiny and new.
Apart from this and the apparently indelible designation "Emily's iPod" on the display, it works perfectly and I guess that's all that matters. And once I put it in the black anodized metal case I bought from eBay (shyeah!), no one will be the wiser that it's scratched up worse than the discs we get from Netflix.
Let the good times roll.
