iPods are amazing little bits of technology. They can store thousands upon thousands of songs, movies, photos, games, and whatnot. They can blast death metal and soothe agitated ears with acoustic music at the drop of a hat, and all in one little discreet package. They can also shuffle (!). iPods are simply splendid, let me put it that way.
Which is exactly why I wanted one ever since they were introduced. And two years ago, I got my wish: my very first iPod nano, a gift of sorts from my brother's friend. Sure, it only had two gigabytes and it was beaten up and scratched and the earbud jack didn't work right, but hey... it was mine. All mine. Hooray!
And I absolutely loved that iPod. I was listening to it all the time, and when I wasn't listening to it, I was thinking about doing it. It only held around 300 songs, but that was fine with me-- it helped me choose my favorites carefully. Now, finally, I had something to hold all my favorite songs for me wherever I went. My music, my life, was now with me, safe and treasured inside the pocket of my jeans.
I put every single Simon & Garfunkel song they ever sang (don't laugh, they're brilliant) on there, and memorized all the words to each song. I added the complete works of Jonathan Coulton, Fleetwood Mac, Michael Jackson, and Eiffel 65, Genesis, and Gordon Lightfoot (all brilliant as well) to the mix, combined with choral works from my friend, European techno from my brother, and sweet '80s rock from my mom's days as a radio DJ, and let my musical enlightenment grow wide and open-minded.
To me, my iPod was a symbol of myself. Everything I wanted to say but couldn't, everything I wanted to be but wasn't... it projected my thoughts and epiphanies and dreams and failures in the simplest way possible: through song.
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Now, I saved up just enough money to buy a new iPod nano, one much nicer and prettier. I will enjoy my new one and all the new space it gives me to fill, but it will never be like my first iPod. I know I'm getting all philosophical and sentimental about a piece of technology, but hey--it helped to make me who I am.
And who knows what music lies out there for me, waiting to be discovered? No one knows. But for now, I am content with my little beaten-up iPod. After all, it is from the past that we figure out how to look towards the future.
