It is one of those things you never expect to suddenly cease operation. One minute it’s fine. The next it is entirely incapacitated with no signs of life except an occasional screen flicker.
It was a birthday gift several years ago. It’s time with the family was significant. We loved it. It provided the soundtrack to too many memorable events. It housed an incredible amount of music. It was our iPod and we loved it like it was a member of the family, dammit. We’re not ashamed to say it.
We’ll move on . . . probably just replace it and everything will be back to normal in no time. It won’t be the same, though. We won’t be the same. Why so dramatic? We’re nearly certain we inadvertently caused the whole thing. It was like a whoopsydaisy-Kevorkian-too-soon maneuver. We didn’t know what we were doing, but when the rigor mortis kicked in, we realized we’d gone too far.
The final song selection? The last thing we ever heard on our expansively eclectic and thoughtfully arranged iPod?
I wish I was joking. This shit actually happened. It was the iPod equivalent of having your last words be “Oh, shit, this is going to hurt” or “I’ve done this 100 times.” I don’t know how or why it was being played. I’m pretty sure I was excited about it, though. The iPod was obviously less enthused (yes, we know it’s not a sentient being with real emotions, but let us continue to pretend) and did the only responsible thing it could. It broke. Forever.
So thanks for the memories, first generation video iPod. We wish we’d named you. We’re sorry your last words were “I had to prove’em wrong.”
In lieu of flowers, please just promise us that you’ll never play a song you’ll regret being your iPod’s last. We may never be able to forgive ourselves.
If we were our own iPod, we’d want this to be our last song. Here’s to everyone having an appreciative and positive start to your work week. Good luck, kids.