It's been officially two months since I broke down, without warning or premeditation, and bought an iPod Nano 2G. Not quite the big old honkin' iPod 30G, and not the itty, bitty, almost pointless Shuffle — rather just the right size, all Goldilocks-like.
I went to the computer store to buy some RAM for my 4 year-old, broken-down POS — not a brand, just a generic title we have anointed the computer many, many, many times over. As I meandered through the various rows of computer components and gadgetry, I found myself inexplicably drawn into the special cordoned off area just for Apple products.
It was like stepping into a world all its own. The sleek, shiny, sparkly design of the Apple line can only be compared to the difference between department store cosmetics and the crap you find at Rite-Aid. Some marketing genius put some serious time into making these products appeal to the eye-candy gene that lurks within all of us.
I stood there for a good long while. I mentally justified why we needed an iPod. I benevolently pictured Eric, no longer being weighed down by heavy CDs through airport security, carefree walks in the park listening to Roxy Music, music reviews made easier. Oh yes, iPod would make my life better, my teeth whiter, my butt smaller, the world more gentle, peaceful. This is how the subtle genius world of Steve Jobs lures you in.
Have you ever talked to an Apple owner? These people are part of a cult, a mindset, an ideology. These aren't just computers, they are a way of life.
So what do I think of my (our) iPod? Generally speaking, I like, I like a lot. It's pretty, the sound is crystal clear, and it's small and unobtrusive.