Mr. wOw’s iPod

How music saved our beloved columnist

Two days ago, I got on the bus, popped those little plastic iPod buds in my ears, and went into another world for twenty minutes between Hoboken and Manhattan. I’d already been up since 5:30, grazing the various sites and online news outlets. (I read my newspapers at the office, over mind-blowing, too-strong coffee.) Nothing was very nice. The weekend had been a horror at worst (Norway) and a humiliation at best (America’s political process.)  There were other bleak events — the not-surprising passing of Amy Winehouse … the thousands of mostly black and Hispanic people who marched against gay marriage in New York … various violent acts from all over the country. Let’s just keep telling ourselves guns don’t kill, shall we?

I needed respite. I needed music.

I’ve always loved music. Loved and cherished my vinyl and when that went away — though I fought the concept —I gave into CD’s and bought hundreds of those slim discs. (I do still have a great deal of my cherished vinyl. And a turntable, which I use, thank you very much!)

But even when I had a Walkman or a CD player, music was something I appreciated mostly at home, alone in my room. There I could dance, muse romantically, or be pulled into some thrilling other world of overpowering “my-life-is-over-my-man-is-gone” crescendos, witty Broadway ditties or mindless pop music. All of it was always there in my head — melodies, words, the beat. I always played music.

And then, the music kind of died. About eleven years ago I went through hell and back — for me. (It’s not like I work in a Chilean mine.) And here I’d thought I’d already been there, having beaten back AIDS. But no, this fresh hell involved my work, my employer, a friend who betrayed me, and a messy resignation. In time — though I felt as if I’d lost at least two limbs in the process — I returned to my old job. But I’d failed. I hadn’t taken advantage of my opportunities. I’d allowed fear and lack of self-esteem to rule me. I was back doing what I did, but as a shadow. And now … I was becoming truly middle-aged. My options narrowed every day.

For several years I simply didn’t play music. My records languished. My CD collection did not grow. But my darkness did.

Finally, my best friend gave me a present. An iPod.

“What’s this?”

“It’s an iPod. You know what they are?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. But, what can I do with it? I don’t know how to do these things! What it is about? I can’t put music on this. I don’t understand this stuff. It’s so complicated!!” (Please note, I have yet to thank my friend for spending a couple of hundred bucks on me.)

“Wow, it is so easy. I promise you. You’ll love it.”

“But…”

“Go home and speak to B. He’ll know.”

I went home that night, clutching my new little toy. That I didn’t want.

“Look!” I said. “Look what I have.” B. was enthusiastic. “Oh, how great. I think you’ll love it.”

“No, no!” I said, holding it out like Macbeth looking at his bloodstained hands. “I can’t understand. I don’t know how to do it. I’m hopeless with this kind of stuff.” I was pretty determined not to happy about anything, as you can see.

B., who has the patience of Penelope, took my iPod and said — in tones that brooked no objection — “let’s go upstairs to your room.” I trudged behind him as if he’d said, ‘We’re knotting the rope now, any last wishes?”

“Sit down at your computer.”

I did.

“Now, press that button.”

I did. Out popped a tray.

“Choose a CD.”

“What CD?”

“Any CD.”

“Ummm … Judy?”

“If you must — just give it to me now.”

I chose Judy’s 1957 Capitol album, “Alone.”

“Okay,” said B. “Watch me.” He placed the CD in the tray. Pressed the button to close it. Did some stuff  – and suddenly it said ITunes and there were tracks for the album up on my computer screen. He had attached my iPod to the computer.

“Now, see where is says ‘import CD,’ just click on that.”

I did and little swirly things happened on each track and then it made a loud “ding!” sound when it was over.

“So, here’s what you have,” said B. “This album is now on your iPod. You can play it anytime. And it is on your computer, too. You can play music right from your computer. And you can edit each CD to only take the tracks you want. Also, you can create your own playlists, too. All dance, all Madonna, all tragic songs.”

“Really?”

“Honest, wOw, I wouldn’t kid you. You think you got it down?”

“Well….’

“I’m sure you do,” said B. beating a hasty retreat. He left me alone for less than an hour. Then he popped his head in. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. I put a few more songs on my iPod” (notice, now it’s “my” iPod.)

“Really?  How many?”

“Four hundred.”

B., who met me when I was 17 and has lived with me since I was 24, did not look surprised. He knows me well.

So that’s how it began. The very next day I was listening to music on the bus, on the subway, at lunch over my margaritas. Suddenly, my iPod was a cherished possession and had seemed to restore me in some vital way. Oh, I was still attempting talk therapy and juggling anti-depressants. But just listening to the soundtrack of “Kiss me Kate” on the morning commute did me more good than any pills I’d tried.

I’ve been through two more iPods since then. I’ve packed 2,570 songs onto the poor little thing. Alphabetically, the artists begin with The Ad Libs (“The Boy From New York City”) and ends with The Zombies (“Time of the Season.’)

In between I’ve got everything from Marianne Faithful to The Beatles to Sarah Vaughn to Pink to Marvin Gaye. The Billie Holiday selections alone could fill my modest first iPod.

And, though nobody who knows me would say, “You’ve become your old self again,” I’m not quite the drudge of depression I was during my music-free years.

Life is still hard. I still worry my mistakes. I still feel guilty for being depressed at all, given the good things I’ve got. (It’s not a hard life, but I can make it grueling.) But, I tell you, my sisters and brothers, getting music back in my head has made me more recognizably human, to myself and to others.

I don’t have a cell phone. I’m not on Facebook. I don’t Tweet. And I don’t care. Just don’t mess with my iPod.

And to my wonderful best friend who thought an iPod was just what I needed … thank you, honey. You were right. I love you. (Hmmm … waited long enough for that, didn’t you?)

 

 

52 comments so far.

  1. avatar rick gould says:

    Mr. wOw–
    I owned an IPod for 4 years before I even used it (this year, to be exact!)… for a lot of stupid little reasons, some of which you noted!

    But now, I love it. I listen to it mostly at home…but have to admit, when I listen to it on public transit, it’s a lovely way to drown out idiotic public/”private” conversations of others.

    I just don’t want to be one of those zombies tuning out the world and constantly staring down at their phone at the same time. Speaking of which, I LOVE The Zombies ;)
    My current fave theme is 60s British pop including The Zombies, Dusty, Cilla Black, Badfinger, George Harrison, etc. etc. etc.

    And yes, I too beat myself up for procrastinating, not appreciating my near perfect-health, all the good in my life, for making everything an effort, etc. etc. etc.

    Sometimes, I feel like I am the small-town version of you :)

    Always good to read you, Mister!

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Rick…

      Thank you.  I just dowloaded a shitload of great girl  groups  from the 50′s/60′s.  Amazing songs, many of which I’d never heard before.  (Girl Group Sounds–Lost and Found.)   Also the entire Beatles catalog.  And all of John Lennon.

      And an amazing Judy box set with incredible songs she did on radio–stuff she never recorded again. 

      I love my music, man.    And I try so hard to be better and less depressed.  For myself and those who care about me. 

      • avatar Mr. Wow says:

        P.S. Rick…

        You might be a “small town” guy but you have big town smarts and heart.  (We city folks are supposed be heartless but we really aren’t.)

  2. avatar Daniel Sugar says:

    “Music can effect a steep rise in the levels of serotonin and the accompanying mood improvement. Studies have measured changes in serotonin, dopamine, endorphins, melatonin, as well as norepinephrine, epinephrine, and prolactin following music therapy.* In fact, music therapy has been found to be very effective in treating panic disorder, seizures, depression, ADD/ADHD and insomnia.”

  3. avatar Lisa Cornell says:

    I have experienced bouts of depression throughout most of my adult life. They have ranged in severity and duration, but now depression is like an unwanted acquaintance who shows up once in a while. I have always found music uplifting. In my last home which I miss terribly, I had an audio tech install speakers on the three levels of my house. When I was home, I would put on a CD and the whole house would be filled with music. I would put on some salsa music for example, while I cooked up a storm. I would find my mood would have no choice but to improve.
    This house I am in, is a concession to middle-age and arthritis. It is on one-floor and so, speakers throughout, doesn’t have the same effect as a multi-level house. However, here in Florida, the sun always does shine and believe it or not, the sun actually does help curb depression.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Lisa…

      When I’m really depressed, I resent the sun.  “Why should it be sunny out when I feel so bad?!!”

      And then I turn on “The Greatest Hits of The Ronettes” and feel a bit better.

      • avatar Deeliteful says:

        Dear Mr. W…

        Thank, you, thank you, thank you! I feel the same way about the sun and my depression. People tell me to get out and enjoy…enjoy what?!? The glare, the heat, my sweat? No, thank you.

        Ah, but music, that’s the ticket. Bryan Adams’ “The Summer of ’69″ brings back memories of the time and all the great/goofy songs of the late 60′s. Then I’ll listen to my compilations of “Oldies, but Goodies” and feel some better, too.

      • avatar Mr. Wow says:

        Dear Deelitelful..

        People say, “Why do you resent the good weather?”  How can a deeply depressed person truly explain it?  I know it’s ridiculous.  Just accept me, okay?  I get over it.

        Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ’69″–that song drove me crazy.  The summer of ’69 was epic for Mr. W.
         
         

  4. avatar CatA says:

    Mr. WoW, thanks for reassuring me that I’m not alone in feeling a little out of my element about iPod/MP3 technology. I still have lots of CDs but will often just play stuff from YouTube when on the computer at home. And while I don’t feel I need a constant soundtrack in the background of my life, I can see how it’s a great way to tune out the drive-you-nuts distractions while out in public (the too-loud cell phone abusers, gum smackers, fussy kids, and so on).  Looks like I’ll have to look into another MP3 (the first one ended up going to my son’s former girlfriend before I even got to try it).  Can you and B. come over and help me? 
    P.S.:  I run the spectrum from Pachelbel’s Canon to Godsmack’s Spiral with lots in between:  Dinah Washington, Tony Bennett, 60’s Motown, blues, South American jazz, Clanad, just about all the stuff in those great Rhino Records collections, Sade, Dead Can Dance and lots more.    

  5. avatar LandofLove says:

    Very sweet story, Mr. wOw. I know you love books. Do you think you’ll ever get a Kindle? (I’ve resisted getting one, so far.)

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Land of Love…

      I try to make it a habit never to say “never” but when it comes to books…the Kindle really doesn’t attract me at all.   I love the tactile experience of a book.

  6. avatar Connie Turner says:

    Dear Mr. Wow,
    I’m so glad to hear you are better.
    Connie

  7. avatar wlaccma says:

    Love you Mr. Wow, that is good news about your Ipod. However, I listened to my Walkman, now my Ipod for many, many years and I have ruined my hearing because I LOVE it loud. Now I have hearing aides. I still love my Ipod too.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear wlaccma…thank you.

      Oh, I am very careful, though the temptation always is to blast the music. 

  8. avatar HauntedLady says:

    I empathize with your reluctance to dive into new technology. Years ago, I bought a stereo that had an 8 track player on it. I was scared to death of the thing and it took 9 months before I worked up the nerve to buy a tape and pop it into the player. I had similar jitters when I first encountered computers but, since the computers were at work, I had to get over it quickly. Now, I guess I’m more comfortable with technology, enough to consider what is necessary/desirable and what is not. Kindle is not because nothing can replace the feel of a book in your hand. Cell phone is not because I had one and only turned it on once every 3 or 4 months. Not worth the cost.

    I’m glad you got your music back. It most definitely impacts the quality of your life and I believe we all need some quality in our lives.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear HauntedLady…

      I admire the technology of the Kindle but it’s not for me.  I need to see and feel the book—it’s part of the reading experience.  But, more power to those who Kindle.  At least they’re reading.

      And I am always a big scaredy cat about everything.  My first reaction to anything new is–”I can’t…I don’t how…I’m not smart enough…”   Lucky me, I’ve had very patient friends. 

  9. avatar Baby Snooks says:

    I miss my personal “Carnegie Hall” which was my loft overlooking a two-story living room and a fireplace and I would spend the occasional “winter’s evening” with only the warm light from the fire as I found myself lost in the world of Carmen McRae and Sarah Vaughn and so many others singing my songs of woe. Eventually I would turn the volume up and pop another tape in and went off to Carnival in Rio. Hard to stay depressed at Carnival in Rio…

  10. avatar Mr. Wow says:

    Dear Baby…

    Oooooohhh….that sounds nice, your loft and fireplace.

    As for Carnival in Rio, Rita Hayworth was pretty depressed during Carnival in “Gilda.”  But, then she was married to a man who said things like…”Hate is very powerful emotion, Gilda.” 

  11. avatar Jon T says:

    The iPod really is like having your own private soundtrack following you around. Every so often I have to remind myself that I’m the only one who can hear it and refrain from getting my groove on. :-) Another fun thing worth checking out are Podcasts. I’ve only recently gotten on board with them, but they’re a great way to pass the time on the subway.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Jon…

      I am constantly bopping and weaving and going off into obvious trances while on the iPod.

      People who watch are wary.

  12. avatar Miss Lee says:

    My beloved Ipod led to a new computer – more memory – and signing up with an on-line back-up service that ensures that if the new computer dies, it won’t take my music with it.  Old broad meets modern life and survives….but I HAVE to draw the line with face book and twitter!  I don’t put my business out on the street and I haven’t been a twit since 15.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Miss Lee…

      In a way, you could say I’m putting my business on the street here, on this site—but, I am anonymous and believe me–it ain’t all  my business.

      But the Facebook/Tweeting stuff?  Apologies to all  who indulge but I just can’t go that far.

      I stopped being a twit at ten.  Kind of sad, really.  But life slaps you upside the head.  Be a twit or survive.   I chose to survive. 

  13. avatar Paul Smith says:

    Swift reflexes in dangerous cities do matter. I refuse to use a walkman, ipod or anything like it, since hearing what goes before and back of me saves my life every day. Music, though sometimes uplifting, can also be suicide anthems for those so inclined.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear PaulSmith…

      I don’t use my iPOD while walking down the street or in any circumstance that might pose a danger to myself or to others.

      Also, nothing on my iPOD prods me towards suicide.

      Sorry.

  14. avatar Bonnie O says:

    Mr. Wow -  Read your comment and feel as if I have just been reading pages from your personal diary … normally considered unacceptable behavior.  However, I find a triumph of spirit in your writings … overcoming AIDS which in itself is celebratory.  Music has always been a vehicle through which humans have been able to lift themselves from the simple doldrums or from frightening thoughts brought on by severe depression.  Some vulnerable humans have now found a way to bring their music with them ….almost everywhere;  I am glad that you found that way.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Bonnie…

      This IS a personal diary.  Mine, and all who care to respond to me.  I’m reaching out. And I want others to reach in. 

      I’m still finding my way.  Music has helped to  soothe  my un-savage yet curiously furious breast. 

      • avatar Bonnie O says:

        There certainly have been times when I have felt the same.  Didn’t Truman Capote call those feelings the “mean reds”?  If a human being can live a lifetime and not suffer pangs of remorse, or times of depression and, otherwise, escape the ‘mean reds’ then that is either one very dull individual or an extremely lucky one.

        I’ve always like the stories of the troubadours ….bringing news to the medieval villages but bringing it via music.

      • avatar Mr. Wow says:

        Dear Bonnie…

        I get the mean reds and the mean blues.  So, I’m usually kinda purple.

  15. avatar Richard Bassett says:

    “Mr. WoW,
    400 songs in an hour? You are much more iPod savvy than I am and I listened and danced to music for twenty years. After Vinyl and before CD’s, there were little tapes (not 8 tracks) that were popular. They were cassettes and for about ten years, you could buy them (like an album), listen to them like albums, make your own out of the albums that you had and, like iPod’s, could listen to them on public transportation. Each cassette had a back and front and you had to turn the cassette around to the other side to hear the entire thing (a pain). Well, they were popular because all you had to carry with you was the cassettes (today I think it would be a pain in the ass). THEN came CD’, s and portable CD players. I guess the sound was better and you could download on limited CD’ sights from your computer. Now you have to pay for the songs but in the old days there was Napster, and more recently, Lime Wire. But how could the artists make any profits? Everything was free. Those days are no more. Now, you pay for the music you have downloaded (or someone’s). As recording artists were furious as their music wasn’t being financially beneficial, the iPod came along. It was very small. Easier to carry than all of your CD’s, and download from the computer. Now, really, that is how it is only done. I listened to contemporary Top 40′s from 1976 until 1995. I knew every song/ every artist.
                  Only on CD’s (I didn’t have a computer to download). You could buy an expensive CD (like an album) LOL, with cassettes, you could even record from the radio….if you were quick enough. I was 40, was in a long term relationship and lived it in the suburbs. I shopped at “Stop n Shop”…with a list!!!! This was much different from being 25 in Hollywood, blonde, very muscular, single, taking all kinds of drugs (especially crystal meth which put you in some surreal magical mood for dancing. These crystal meth dancing clubs were usually opened until dawn. No one drank alcohol (it was useless taking the speed) and a ten hour dance session started. That was why DJ’s were important. They could bring the crowd up to frenzy and then bring them down slowly. People almost ever danced with someone, you just danced to the music…alone. Maybe dancing with someone here and there, for a minute. This was Saturday night to Sunday morning…which was reserved for sex. You had to relieve the energy somehow! The crowd was gay, straight, men, women….and that’s where I learned the drug scene. If you were over 30, you were pushing it regarding age. People usually went into their comfort zones. Over the hill (literally) there were a few country western (post Urban Cowboy) bars where being 35-40 was tolerated. Everyone was a cowboy for a few years. There were house parties and raves, after club gatherings. It was like a secretly cult….who you felt a connection with no matter where you saw them on the street. I was dancing to Techno twenty years before the rest of the nation caught on (especially Boston). Here, the dance scene was like going to pre-school. The few times I would be all alone on the dance floor…I was looked at like I was from out of space. Again, it took twenty years for Boston to “try” to catch up to Los Angeles 20 years earlier. Talk about being ahead of your time! So, for the subway, I made all dance music on cassettes and more times than none, I missed my stop. IPod’s would be wasted on me now. I’m 53, still like the Top 40 songs, but could never go back to that atmosphere. The few times I’ve been out, I laughed if asked if I wanted to dance. Or if I did…I barely moved. I don’t listen to music with an expectation of going out to dance. I watch the VH1 videos, which inspired the Liz Taylor videos. There are songs that I like and songs that I hate. That is as far as it goes. For someone who has primarily lived for music and that culture, it has become background sounds to me now. God, even going to a club with to see men with no shirts, go go boys on cages with popular DJ’s is a giggle to me. They are all like Los Angeles in 1983. But this place is heavily police guarded. You never saw one policeman in LA. It’s different and I’m different. Now listening to iPods are popular, so is talking on your cell phone, texting, writing and reading e-mails, reading books. I don’t know how people do it…and concentrate on where they are! No iPod’s for me. I had decades of that scene. And not for nothing, I am in my 50′s and get to watch the others grow up.”
     

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Richard…

      I have two modes: ”Oh, no I can’t do it.”  Or–”Oh, no, I can’t stop!“  So, while 400 songs in an hour might seem excessive, it’s very me.

      The iPod is my one concession to new technology. Although I feel I will have to break down and get myself a simple, no bells and whistles cell phone eventually.

      I don’t go to clubs or bars.  Although the promise of boys in cages might still tempt me. Nah, not even that.  I’m just two years away from 60.  That kind of music stopped for me quite a few years ago, and there’s no iPod to reclaim one’s youthful looks.  But that’s fine.  I had my time and my fun.  Music reminds me, and they are good memories!

      • avatar Jessica Burnette says:

        Mr. Wow, have you thought about an iPod touch for your next one?  My son got one for his birthday and it really is pretty cool!  It is capablr of making phone calls, but only to and from other iPod or iPhone users, and it is possible to text if you are near a wireless internet connection.  He likes surfing the web for tornado videos (he is very focused on being a meteorologist when he grows up) while he is listening to his tunes.  I like it because it has the full screen and you can watch videos, take pictures, and do a lot of things cell phones will do, without the hassle of the phone part.  You should check it out, it’s pretty nifty!

      • avatar Mr. Wow says:

        Dear Jessica…

        Thanks for the info, but I think I’ll stick to a regular iPOd and maybe get a simple cell. I don’t want to even tempt myself to live my entire life looking down into the palm of my hand. 

        I realize it is a new world for younger folks–and even for many in maturity.  But I want to remain connected through Tv and newspapers and magazines, despite the availability of these venues on tiny, magical thingys.  I’m on my home computer enough as it is–believe me, I never thought I’d depend on it as much as I have. 
        Good luck to your son, the future meterologist.  Try to discourage him from chasing twisters.  Very dangerous.
        By the way–texting?  How do people do it?  The keyboards are so tiny!  I’m too clumsy.

  16. avatar HauntedLady says:

    Richard, don’t let anyone or anything make you become too grown up. I’m 62 and reserve a certain amount of energy to being a kid still. Maybe you’re at a time in life at which you would enjoy a different type of music than you have in the past. I tend to choose music according to my whims – classical to relax and ponder, Irish drinking songs for a giggle, oldies for nostalgia, etc. An iPod or MP3 probably isn’t absolutely necessary but they can be fun. And a little dance now and then is good, too.

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Haunted Lady…

      Or as they said at the funeral for Chuckles the Clown on the Mary Tyler Moore Show–”a  little laugh, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants!”

      • avatar mary burdt says:

        Mr. wOw, Chuckle the Clown’s funeral on Mary Tyler Moore’s show was the last time I laughed so hard I almost fell down. What a glorious script that was. Now I find it gets harder to see joy in almost anything due to years of depression. I try to listen to music every day and sometimes that helps. I do love politics, and keep up with all the latest happenings and also love reading. I, too, love my Ipod, also a gift from my best friend.

        Take care of yourself, Mr wOw. I love your postings.

      • avatar Mr. Wow says:

        Dear Mary…

        So many wonderful memories of that show.  Remember the first appearance of Betty White as Sue Ann Nivens? 

        We are all probably more depressed because we do care about politics and watch and read a lot.  I mean, if this debt crisis crap isn’t depressing, what is? 

        After scanning the news shows and the websites I really needed my music on the bus today. (I played a lot of 1960′s/70′s pop songs this a.m.) 
        You take care, too.

      • avatar HauntedLady says:

        Well, I’ll do almost anything for a laugh so ….

    • avatar Richard Bassett says:

       Thanks for the suggestions, Haunted Lady, Clessical always cakm the nerves. I am in you with Enya and I have all of her music. She has the ability to change a mood…but there is no one really out there like her. She is the one, THE ONLY, new age artist that reminds me of perfection.
      I don’t see me connecting with the Irish Jigs, though, For me, the oldies are the 1960′s and I love it all. Too bad there isn’t anything more like them here. I had siblings, grown sisters from 1959 to 1968, so I heard these songs likes prayers and some I really liked!!!!
          I really do not think of myself as old but I was young for such a long time, it seems and know the body hurts, the joints are stiff, the face drops a bit. It’s happening too fast for me. Until I was 50, I was still ‘out there’ living the life of 20 year olds. It all quickly changed at 50. Don’t get me wrong, it is not exhausting and I’m always given a seat on the subway. I remember when I was 18 and had the most vivid dream that I was 30. I woke up in a panic. Me…at 30! It was too terrible to think about. In LA, if you told someone you were 35…you were ignored a little. 25 was the prime age to be. I;m glad I had these years and will adjust, just in the other direction. Thank You

  17. avatar Kimberley Frey says:

    My Ipod has made traveling on an airplane a completely different experience. I no longer have to hear  people complaining, babies crying, incessant blathering – I’m in my own little musically enhanced world.
    I even have a playlist just for travel. Come Fly with Me, Up, Up and Away, Rocket Man…….

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Kimberly…

      Aren’t the playlists great?  I’ve had so much fun creating those. 

  18. avatar Chandara Sun says:

    Speaking of Kindles and Nooks and other devices, I swore on a stack of bibles that I would never ever read a book digitally. It just seems wrong! Me and hubby have nice collections of Easton Press books, and I love holding a book in my hands. BUT I have to admit, my iPad changed my mind…a little. It has a nice little app on it that connects with their bookstore, The one thing it does that I just LOVE is that if you hold it horizontally, it goes to two pages with a “spine” in the middle, and you swoosh your finger over to change pages, and I have to admit, it DOES make me feel like I’m reading a real book. I have, however, no intention of losing books. I just have to say that if you’re on a very long trip, it’s nice to just bring ONE device instead of 4 paperbacks. :)

    Good for you loving your iPod. It’s a lot of happiness that one can put in their pocket and take with them everywhere (until it’s time to recharge!)

    • avatar Mr. Wow says:

      Dear Chandara…

      I just don’t see myself with the Kindle.  Then again I never saw myself writing online, making with all the opinions.  So…

  19. avatar sunshine_minx says:

    I feel the same way about my iPod. When faced with those tricky moments (my headphones died yesterday), my first thought is usually along the lines of: “Oh NO! What if the iPod has something wrong? How will I manage?”

    I am truly glad you’re enjoying yours. It did make me laugh when you said you’d already gotten up to 400 songs when B came to check on you- mine won’t hold that many! And Judy! I do love Judy- should probably look into adding some of her music to mine. I think I have “I’ve Got Rhythm” on a CD somewhere.

    Thank you, also, for mentioning some of the songs you’ve added in the comments section. I’m always looking to branch out my tastes a little, and it’s nice to get suggestions.

  20. avatar Mr. Wow says:

    Dear Sunshine…

    You ned to get yourself a new iPOD.  400 songs is not enough. 

    May I suggest “Classic Judy Garland–The Capitol Years.”  2CDs with excellent selection from all her Capitol Records albums.   

    If you prefer the “younger” Judy voice, look into “The Complete Decca Masters.” 

    Rosemary Clooney’s Concord Jazz  albums are also divine.