I finally got my wish.
Despite being used for nearly two hours per day for the past couple of years, being thrown from my bike in the accident, dropped to concrete on several other occasions, used by Miles as a very small stool to reach the bathroom sink and other ignominious fates, my first-generation iPod simply would not die. The jog-wheel has been popping off lately, revealing dirt in the works, the battery has been charging down quickly, and the face-plate is badly scuffed. Lately I’ve been wishing it would just die, so I could justify a new one, but the damn thing apparently thought it was better to burn out than to fade away.
It finally stopped booting last week. Riding to work in silence was more jarring than expected. At the Apple store this morning, the girl who assisted me announced that her name was “Boots.” That’s a good name. She went into the back room to get a 20GB 4th-gen iPod and returned empty-handed. She stood before me and pronounced, “Umm… peace and love, but we’re out of stock.”
Peace and love? I’m all for it! But, what was behind the Lenon/Ono sentiment? Was she anticipating a violent, non-love reaction when I learned the truth? Did she think I was going to smack her just for being out of stock? Seeking to pre-emptively diffuse my inevitable rage with a prayer for world peace and a global bed-in? Boots! It’s OK! I understand! I dig the sentiment, but I wasn’t going to holler, really.
It all turned out for the best. After another trip to the stock-room, she found one in an opened box, with a 10% discount. I’m in heaven. Coincidentally, the Airport Express arrived yesterday, so the living room is wirelessly wired now as well. AE works perfectly, but sits on the edge of good reception — the status light blinks perennially yellow, but the audio signal is solid — no drop-outs until we run the microwave, at which point the music pauses (I don’t mean the signal drops out; iTunes actually stops moving until the signal is clear again; amazing).
Speaking of peace and love, where was it at the Democratic National Convention? Lots of rousing speeches, but the DNC was militaristic from top to bottom. Must be the price of admission back into the white house, but still found myself wishing we were watching Kucinich instead. Here’s some more peace and love from your friends at Halliburton.