Last week was my birthday and, as Martha says, it was A Good Thing. The spousal unit is really starting to get the hang of this gift giving thing—or, at the very least, he has gotten smart enough to ask those people in the know what I really want. I can understand his confusion; I am tech grrl, interested in gadgets and the internet, and buzzwords that make his head spin. He, on the other hand, is one step shy of a technophobe; he needs me to set up his profile so that he has shortcuts to his work email, his personal email, and a browser. He also finds me handy to have around when the VCR clock needs set, or to wire the home stereo system; but when it comes to guessing what gadgets I’d adore, he finds himself way outside his comfort zone. As luck would have it, he also has the cards stacked against him in that Christmas, our anniversary, and my birthday all fall within a 4 week period. No man should have to deal with that kind of misfortune. While he might be able to come up with Christmas gift ideas, and manages a fair amount of creativity for our anniversary, by the time we reach the week before my birthday, he starts to hyperventilate with anxiety. Fortunately the tech savvy kids can usually come up with suggestions of things I’d like, and this year was no exception. When polled for their opinions, all child units responded in kind: she needs a new iPod.
I, of course, would agree. My 3rd generation, 40GB (the largest model
they offered four years ago) dinosaur was crammed to the gills with as
much music as I could get on it. Being a DJ in a previous life, I have
way too much music hanging around
in various formats, and had loaded most of my music library into
iTunes—but again, there was more music than could be
synced to The iBeast. Not only was the iBeast full, it had become
necessary to dock it wherever I wanted to listen to it, as it suffered
from random fits of ennui. My iPod would inexplicably stop playing, as
though it took too much effort to play music, and would sooner prefer
to simply sit. I knew I wanted a new Classic—one that would take my entire
collection and still leave me with room to spare—but how I could coerce
the spousal unit into seeing it from my point of view was beyond me.
somehow, by the grace of God, the spousal unit thought a new iPod was
the perfect idea, and it didn’t even take too much persuasion from my
sister to convince him to spring for the extra $100 worth of GB. I am
now the proud owner of a new, sleek black iBeast; 160GB of space
begging to be filled. It still has the original engraved message* on
the back: it’s my mantra and my iPod, and it makes me happy. It’s taken
me several days to retrieve all my music and video files from the
various locations I’d squirreled them away, recombine them into a
single library, and transfer the whole kit and kaboodle to an external
hard drive (backed up of course, just in case. I blanch at the thought
of how much money I’ve invested in iTunes purchases, and what losing
that would mean). But now, safely backed up, I go forward, playing with
my new toy, amazed at the screen size, color and clarity. I’m plugged
in, tuned out, and oh so happy to have my dependable music library by
my side once again.
iRock. As does the spousal unit.
*Motherhood is not for wimps. Arm yourself accordingly…