Ipod Therefore I Am.

It has been a long week and I apologise to my faithful readers (all three of them) for my abstinence. Abstinence leads me to theme of this blog. In the absence of sex I have found a substitute. It is plastic, about four or five inches long and about an inch thick. I concede that these dimensions may not satisfy everyone, but (metaphorically speaking) times are hard. I speak of my Apple Ipod which has lain with me in my virginal bed each night. In a word, it is brilliant. Perhaps the best thing to come out of America since the Hula Hoop or the Trampoline. Imagine all the music you ever own (or are likely to own in the next five years) being compressed into something that fits into your pocket or (for the well endowed) your Prada bag.

I'm an Apple virgin having been seduced by MicroSoft in my impressionable youth. Microsoft sex has been rough at times, but like a subdued and long-suffering wife I've taken all the shit they've thrown my way. Apple is pure lover material. It is fun and it is smart. I cannot make such claims of the men I know. The Ipod turns itself on when you insert the headphones. If that aint smart (and full of sexual innuendo) then what is ? Then there's the control ring. This is small, smooth shiny breast with a pert nipple at its centre. Controls are accessed by swirling a finger round the breast or by gently tweaking the nipple. This can be done while the Ipod is in one's pocket, thereby adding an air of mystery to the whole thing. (Be careful if you want to avoid the "sad wanker" label.) Oh yes. You can also dress your Ipod up. There's a whole range of sexy Ipod socks available. Mine is wearing lime green tonight. It gets better. The new state of the art Ipod Photo allows you to download album covers. So if you are (like me) blind without your glasses, you can peer into the IPod's generous screen and figure out what the fuck it is that you're listening to.

And now to the best part: The Music. At the risk of sounding like a geek, there is an awesome 60 GB's of memory. I've downloaded the better part of my music collection with two entire operas to boot (Bellini's "Norma" and Puccini's "La Boheme") and I've only used up 5GBs of space. This means I can continue to store music till eternity. The Ipod connects to most computer speakers. For some unfathomable reason I picked up speakers which look like extras off a Star Wars set. The force is with them - especially on high bass. And with an ITripper you can tune your Ipod into your car's FM player. Unfortunately, the anally retentive Brits don't sell these as they amount to "transmission" which is unlawful. "Transmission" being the ten inches from your dashboard to the FM Radio. Hang all the lawyers. (They need to be well hung.)

The only thing I have not done so far (apart from have real sex with my Ipod) is to organise my music into playlists. As a result, the 2974 songs that I have will usually play in random order. This can lead to odd and highly unsettling juxtapositions given the kind of music I listen to. Imagine jumping from Count Basie to Blondie to Youssou N'dour to Maria Callas to Kishore Kumar. This can be truly amusing when there are a bunch of close friends around - but highly embarassing when something unexpected comes along. Say Village People or Abba or (blush) Cliff Richard. Ok Stop sniggering. This was the music of my early childhood/youth. It is a small wonder that I've retained my sanity despite having been weaned on some truly mind numbing sounds. I have history and I'm proud to say so. In the process of storing music, I have come across at least a hundred CDs I will never listen to again (Gregorian Chants, Viva Lambada and Hot Arab Party Mix to name a few) which I will give away to the Italian. His life will never be the same again. And as for me- I'm having a QNI with my IP. For the unitiated : a Quiet Night In with My Ipod.