In honor of the late Steve Jobs, I thought that I would share my most positive Apple-related story. R.I.P., and get the hell off the Apple homepage. Your solemn and bespectacled face is bumming me out.
It’s not rare that my technology fails me, but Apple seems to be especially efficient at driving me batshit-crazy. Since Mac computers are designed for ease of use and slick appearances, you would think that their iPods would be of equal or greater technological prowess. But no. IPods are infernal robots made for the purest form of infuriation. I am constantly swearing at my Nano for changing mid-song just because the Earth’s rotation triggered the auto-shuffle.
Surprisingly, my iPod had one day where I wasn’t threatening to break it in half for being semi-sentient. Mondays have never really been my day, but this Monday was worse than usual. I had been hit and run over by a Ford Explorer in the morning, managed to waddle to school after some police intervention, threw up my lunch, and then somehow the last bell rang. I didn’t have enough quarters for the bus, so I set out walking the 3 miles home with my iPod in hand.
I purposely set my iPod on shuffle in hopes of a pleasant surprise, and I was pleasantly surprised to be pleasantly surprised by my iPod when it started off with “Through the Fire and Flames” by Dragonforce. In case you never heard that song, it rocks with the glory of more than 7 boxes of Hamburger Helper, which is a lot of glory. The galvanizing force of power-metal coursed through my veins, but I was a long way from recovering from my day.
The metal died down and my ears began to fill with the dope beats of Dr. Dre. The bass boomed and Snoop Dogg started telling me all about how I should relax and sip on some mixed drink. I was actually starting to feel better.
I figured the next song would be something lame, but then “Rock of Ages,” by Def Leppard began, and Def Leppard is very far from being lame. Three great songs in a row? I could dig it. My feet kept moving towards the house while my mind basked in the musical rejuvenation.
Many excellent and inspirational songs later, I was 4 minutes away from home. The previous song was ending, and I was sure there was no chance the iPod would randomly choose another good song. Well, it chose “Sandstorm,” by Darude, the single most cathartic techno song I have ever encountered — song that I have actually listened to for hours straight on occasion.
I approached home as “Sandstorm” died down. As I opened the door, I realized the music had stopped. The battery was dead. My iPod chose the exact climax of my music-listening experience to keel over. There was no need to spoil the perfect playlist with some random song, because there was not to be another.
