My iPod And i

This is a horrible secret to confess, but if there were a fire and it came down to rescuing my loved ones or my iPod, I'd probably have to flip hot coins.

Most things in lifeI could live without in a pinch if I had to, except air and water and Start Me Up by the Stones. But if I had to give up oxygen or my iPod, I'd need some time to think.

Because what a wondrous device. Wow. I used to make a ton of mixed cassette tapes, and I remember getting all excited when 120-minute tapes came out, in the Bronze Age, because you could fit so many songs on them. Making playlists now is so mind-bogglingly easy and enjoyable in comparison that I honestly don't believe human beings should be allowed to have so much fun. If you had told me then that in a few years there would be a thin little gadget that fit in my palm that would hold my entire music collection plus thousands of tunes more, I would've thought you were a liar and punched you repeatedly. It's a marvel, that's what the iPod is. A triumph of mankind. Like pizza, but even better, and, believe me, that's saying more than you can ever know.

So when I say I really like my iPod, I don't mean I've grown immensely fond of it or anything that pedestrian. I now actively worship it, prostrating myself spontaneously before it in tribute at odd moments and praying to it loudly at night to solve my many horrifying problems. I carry it near my heart wherever I go, in the breast pocket of my shirts and jackets. I like it better than things that others die for, like freedom. In the spirit of openness and candor, I'll bet I like it a billion times more than, oh, say, you. No offense, I hope. I'm just saying.

An iPod puts a soundtrack on your day. You walk around with mood music playing that accentuates each 'scene' in the movie of your life. The problem is that you can get to the point where you neglect the script by avoiding dialogue. I'm ambling down the hall of my building on Shuffle. No Rain by Blind Melon comes on. Instantly I am transported to a rapturous place! My very molecules frolic, galvanized by the happy surprise! But wait! There, at the elevator! It's that really nice old couple that always want to chat so pleasantly! Damn! Now I'll have to hit Pause, and I would much rather fling them down the shaft. My God. What kind of a monster am I becoming? You worry about yourself sometimes, with an iPod.

Actually, when you think about it, iPods bring the generations together. The elderly like iPods. They don't own any, but they like them. Because now young and old alike can relate to walking around going, "WHAAAT?" Pointing apologetically at their ears. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU." It's a bonding thing.

If I ever lost my iPod, I would begin systematically pillaging houses door to door, slaughtering the occupants, until I found it. This also, sadly, is not hyperbole.

You might be surprised to know that I actually am not terribly fond of the name "iPod". I think it sounds too much like some kind of plant that eats you in a science fiction movie or something. I think it should be called simply The Wonderful Thing.

That's my motto. "Life Is A Wonderful Thing."

Now, when I say it, you'll know what I mean.