Death to Soundy

See this lil feller? Mrs. Nitmos got him for me as a Christmas gift. He doesn’t work anymore – a mere five+ months later.

What can we conclude from this?
a) Mrs. Nitmos buys cheap gifts.
b) Apple makes cheap iPods.
c) It would rather commit suicide rather than stay clipped to my sweaty torso for one second longer.

If I plug it in to charge, the little square gets piping hot to the touch within two minutes. The regulator which said ‘charge me’ must have stopped regulating and instead switched over to ‘unleash the fires of hell upon thee’. I always thought my music was hawt but not literally HOT. Its poor little insides must be burned to a crisp.

It’s too bad because I liked the smallness and ease of use of the little device. It’s very much like my penis. It reminds me of this favored set of Marantz speakers I had in my college dorm room. The speakers were way too powerful for that little cement cell of a room so my roommate and I had to exercise supreme restrain not to blow the doors and windows out. My Marantz and me envisioned a long and happy life together…until an impromptu party began…(queue flashback sequence)

It started out as three, then ballooned to ten before finally ending with 20 beer seeking twenty-somethings packed shoulder-to-shoulder in a square dorm room made for two. These were the days when 80’s hair bands were on their way out and grunge was setting up shop on the Billboard charts. Kids were finally realizing that Poison did, in fact, look like a bunch of sissies. Warrant, Winger, et al was getting the mocking they richly deserved. As a long time Hater of 80’s hair bands, it was a glorious time for me.

Beer was drank. Fun was had. My Marantz chirped away at a loud but not obnoxious level with my preferred musical selections. Husker Du, The Replacements, Pearl Jam, etc. But, inevitably, just as we couldn’t control the amount of people flooding into our room, we also couldn’t keep control over the music. I found myself trapped on one side of the room when I heard it. The music stopped, the disc tray slid out, a Def Leppard CD was produced, the tray slid back in, ‘play’ was pressed and THE VOLUME WAS CRANKED. I knew what my Marantz were capable of and the volume was red lined to dangerous heights.

If you’ve been in a car accident, you know there is that moment that probably only lasts a millisecond but feels like an eternity. That moment where you can see everything bad that is about to happen and you are powerless to stop it. I looked at my roommate who was also trapped on another side of the room and mouthed ‘Oh, no’ just as “POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME ooohhh IN THE NAME OF LOVE” screamed through the room. It was loud. Too loud. The sound bounced against the cement walls and reverberated back creating a devilish echo chamber of horrible music. If you’ve been waterboarded, you still don’t know the agony – the torture – of being in that room, that moment.

I knew my Marantz wouldn’t put up with this transgression for long. Before I could wade my way through the crowd to the stereo, I heard the unmistakable crackle and pop of a blown speaker. They killed themselves right then and there. And I couldn’t blame them. I remember opening that CD tray and shouting “Who put this shit in here?!” before flinging the CD like a buzz saw across the room. Fucking Def Leppard killed my awesome speakers. What a way to die.

So, I’m mindful of the last moments of my little iPod. What was it playing when it had enough? I don’t have any Def Leppard on there but I’ll cop to some ABBA. Who doesn’t like a little Mamma Mia when on a road trip with friends? If ABBA killed my iPod, I hope it was Super Trooper and not Dancing Queen.

Now, when running, I’m stuck listening to the birds sing, the wind rustling through the leaves, the melancholy bark of lonely dogs, children frolicking with squirt guns. You know, all that annoying shit.

Here’s to hoping that Apple can fix and/or replace my lil music box quickly so I can once again drown out the incessant sounds of nature and life. I need to match my steps to the thump thump of an angry, aggressive bass. Any more of this pure oneness with my body and the intoxicating senses of the natural environment may send me the way of the Marantz. I’ll zig rather than zag right into oncoming traffic…

Happy trails.
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Happy 4th of July weekend! I hope everyone enjoys some quality tunes whilst drinking beer and lighting small explosives in their yard. Go America!