A Joyful IBroad
I'm technologically impaired. VCRs and DVD players kick my tush every single time I attempt to use them. Remote controls? Forget it. I'd rather walk over to the TV and turn it on with the power button. Car alarms are a nightmare for me. How many pushes of the clicker are required to set it? How many do I need to unset it? I don't know, I'll just hit the door lock and if someone steals my car--oh, well.
I don't own a digital camera; I refuse to. I have never had a cool gaming system. I could not tell you about nifty kitchen appliances that you "set and forget." I will always read a book, not listen to it. I still write hand written letters, not typed or emailed. And my macaroni and cheese does not come from a blue box.
To me, technology, while being deemed an excellent aid for nearly everything today, is too vast and omnipotent to waste my time on. Plus I don't know how to use it. I told you I am impaired.
People laugh at me because of this impairment. They state I am too simple-minded, or nuts for doing things the old, hard way. Maybe I am, but I am the one who laughs at them as they try to figure out how to make their cell phones call Egypt while downloading streaming video so they can send it to their friends' phones as they three-way walkie-talkie one another. Who's doing hard stuff? I walk to a pay phone, insert a coin or two and voilà, I call someone. And yes, I still push every number when I dial. I want my loved ones to know they are more important to me then *02.
One of the things technology has affected is music. I love music. I adore all kinds of music, from Broadway showtunes to opera, classical, pop, R&B, country, rock, alternative, and even tribal music. Music is one of the top things on my priority list, right after coffee and marshmallow Peeps.
Do you recall the advent of the now-extinct walkman? I had one once. I could never find the stupid play button. I was forever rewinding or fast-forwarding my tapes. I stuffed it in a drawer and never bothered with it again. When portable CD players, or discman came out--that was a nightmare for me. Every time I moved as I tried to listen to a CD, it skipped. For years I thought all music had "blerps" in it intentionally. My discman went with my walkman and together they happily lie in a drawer.
Now in today's society, we have IpodsTM or mp3 players to listen to music with. Boy, did I scoff! Suddenly the news was filled with reports of various waiting lists, and long lines for this newest product. When I heard people were paying upwards of two hundred dollars for an IpodTM, I openly laughed at such dorks. We all recall boom boxes and how crappy they made our favorite songs sound. How something could sound as excellent as this small thing bragged to be was beyond me.
I thought after the first year, these overpriced IpodsTM would fade away. I thought wrong. Pretty soon I heard of ItunesTM and IskinsTM and any other Ithing you could think of. There were docking stations to place your IpodTM in so you could listen without ear buds. There were armbands to hold the Ipod in place, accessories of all shapes and colors; it was insane. For many years I laughed openly at the IpodTM and its Itrapped worshippers who spent an Iwad just to listen to another crappy rendition of their favorite song.
All that changed one day when a small box was delivered to me. Nestled amongst packing peanuts and wrapped in bubble wrap, I found a strange USB cord, a set of ear buds and a weirdly tinged teal blue rectangle with a round circle on the front. Yes, someone was daring enough to gift this Joyful Girl with an Ipod MiniTM.
After popping every cell on the bubble wrap, I examined this foreign object. First thing I noticed, there was no way to plug this IpodTM in to recharge it. The AC adapter was not in the box. Well phooey, now what? And truthfully I was a tad aggravated. How do you send a gift without the power cord? But nonetheless, a gift is a gift, and I plugged in the odd USB cord to my laptop and sat down to try and figure out where I could get a power cord from.
The strangest thing happened when I did this. That odd USB cord, it IS the charger! That's right, you plug it into your Ipod, and into your computer USB port and guess what, your computer trickle charges your IPODTM!
I never thought I'd say this, but how freakin' cool? My laptop goes with me everywhere. Never again will I have to plug into a wall for music! This was fantastical to me, even orgasmic.
As my dead IpodTM charged, I started arranging the music I already owned. I learned of Itunes and how to create play-lists. I learned how to sync my IPODTM. Yes, I yelled at Itunes. I did not know how to work it at first. But I learned in the typically technologically-impaired way, by mistake. Eventually, I had music to sync to my Ipod, who I named Podler.
How do I tell you of the grand and glorious wonder I experienced as I hit play. Suddenly, in my ears I heard the first musical notes begin. Sheer bliss! Never before had music sounded so damn good. I jumped. I bounced. I screamed at the top of my lungs to those nearby me, "LISTEN TO THIS" while never offering an ear bud. I was a brand new blathering idiot. Then I found the volume adjusting and . . .well, the total sum of my experience can't be put to words it was that... erotic!.
Of course I have made a few mistakes with Podler. I had the Ipod stuck on auto-repeat which meant the same song replayed over and over. I didn't know how to stop it, or how to change to a new song. Honestly, I didn't know a whole lot about this IpodTM at all. And as I listened to that first song for the fifteenth time in a row, while shouting at everyone over the sound being pumped into my ears, "How do I shut it off?" I just had to laugh at myself.
Why? Well you see, the first song I ever listened to on my IpodTM is by a Metal Band called Mad Season. The song title; I Don't Know Anything...
As I write this I sit far away from home. I am working and it is hard at times, but due to the kindness of my friend and the miracle of technology I have found some great joy recently. I love Podler with all of my heart. He is never any further from me then my pocket. He whispers to me, yells at me, and pumpss out music that fits my every mood. The soft, sensual feel of his adjusting wheel is heaven to me. Podler and the music he carries soothe me, motivate me and even inspire me.
My Marines and I even began having Cheesy Easy Nights due to Podler. They saw me dancing to oldies and we found a way to dock Podler so all could enjoy his sounds. Podler is perhaps the single most important piece of personal technology I have, and I worship him.
Right now as this Ibroad finishes her column, she hears the sounds of AC/DC's Thunderstruck in her head. Oh, yes, Podler the Ipod MiniTM, I am.
To all of my country's Service Men and Women: Keep on keeping on, you do us proud! I'll always be your Joyful Girl and Ice-Ice-Lady.