The Sad Saga of Assembling Seven Songs

The other day I was “tagged” by Roxy of Roxiticus Housewives to assemble a list of seven songs I am currently listening to on my iPod. She was, of course, assuming I already had an iPod and could easily tap into my “frequently played” list to find my most popular current choices. But for those of you who read about my unfortunate subway incident in Madrid, you will know that I no longer have an iPod. In fact, I no longer pay attention to music at all, preferring to spend my days listening to the gentle rustle of mice beneath my floorboards. (Just kidding about the last part. I still listen to music and I don’t have mice. At least I don’t think I do. I’m sure the cats would have found them by now.)

Anyway, in order to comply with Roxy’s wishes, I had to go out and buy myself a new iPod so I could truly immerse myself in the creative process. Yes it’s true, I could have easily made up a list of seven random songs and just told Roxy they were on my iPod. But that would be dishonest. And if I know one thing about certain Desperate Housewives, they do not put up with dishonesty. (Especially someone as prude and prudent as Bree.)

So out to the local Circuit City I went, credit card in hand and a calliope of famous tunes swimming in my head. Unfortunately, the local Circuit City was all sold out of iPods, or maybe they never had any iPods to begin with. I wasn’t really sure, because I couldn’t understand the salesperson that waited on me. His English was not that great, nor were his translation skills. And when I tried to ask another salesperson for help, he got very angry and started cursing me in another language. (Or at least I assume that’s what he was doing, as his vocal histrionics involved an awful lot of spitting.)

Needless to say, I left Circuit City and headed over to Best Buy, where I was sure I would find what I was looking for. Sure enough they had plenty of iPods available for sale. But because of some kind of fluke shipping mishap, the only color they currently had available was pink. Honestly. It was like they were having a Barbie convention or something.

So I left Best Buy, hoping to reach the Mac store at the Mall before it closed. With fifteen minutes to spare, I ran from my car, into the mall, past Macy’s, past Sears, past The Disney Store, until I finally reached my destination---the Mac Store. Surely they would have a wide variety of iPods to choose from. And a large selection of colors as well. I glanced at the window before entering the store, and was relieved to see a multitude of options and models. Thank God. I would finally be able to get my iPod, go home and load it with music, so I could finally figure out what I was listening to.

But as soon as I tried to enter the store, I noticed a sign taped across the entryway that read “Sorry for the inconvenience. We are currently closed for inventory.” I’m sure you can imagine the string of expletives that came bursting forth from my mouth, as the frustration of my situation overwhelmed me. After a short tirade, I left the mall, only to find my car had been ticketed for parking in front of a fire hydrant. Only I didn't know it was a fire hydrant, because it had recently been painted to look like a garden gnome by a local group of schoolchildren as part of their “Let’s Make Our Neighborhood Colorful” project. Lucky me. (I didn't know it was supposed to be a garden gnome, either. I thought it was a statue of Ross Perot.)

After such a horrendous experience, I still have not assembled the list of seven songs, though there are several four-letter words that have gotten a lot of airplay in my household lately. One of them, being the name “Roxy” for putting me through such a terrible ordeal. (Just kidding, Roxy.)

So for now, I have still not assembled my list of seven songs. But that's just me. What are the seven songs you are listening to constantly these days?

Mouth Organ Karaoke--TWO SHOES, ONE BOOT

Please click on the photo above to watch a short film from the "Mouth Organ Karaoke" series, which seems like a perfect fit for April Fool's Day! (Not to be confused with the other YouTube series which began with "Two Girls, One Cup.")

A Tepid Taste for Technology

I have always been a little behind the times when it comes to accepting new forms of technology. After all, I’d barely mastered the computer before the Internet suddenly became a staple of our lives. And without any sense of vision on my part, I never thought the World Wide Web “fad” would actually catch on. How wrong I was.

I was much the same way when it came to purchasing a cell phone. For years, I was convinced I didn’t need one, and would never fall victim to this new fangled contraption. But of course, my job soon made the purchase a necessity, because without a cell phone you really don’t exist in the business world. Or anywhere, for that matter. (My ten-year-old niece even has a cell phone, though I can’t even imagine who she might need to call on a regular basis. The Hannah Montana hotline?)

My point is, when did technology become so accelerated that tomorrow’s discovery is already yesterday’s news? How fast do you have to be to actually stay ahead of the curve? Or is that even possible any more?

The reason I bring this up is because I recently needed some accessories for my Sony HD camera, but was having difficulty finding my model number listed on the Sony website. So I called their Customer Service Hotline for assistance, only to discover my camera was already considered an “older model” and therefore no longer listed on the main site.

“It’s not an older model,” I said. “I just bought it last year.”

“Here at Sony, the technology changes so fast,” the Customer Service Rep said with a giggle. “Even if your camera is a year old, it’s already been updated and enhanced so many times by newer versions, that it now falls under the older model classification.”

“Stop calling it old,” I practically yelled. “I bought it last year when it was supposedly the hottest camera on the market. And now you’re telling me that within the space of a year it’s already become obsolete?”

“No. But a year is like a decade at Sony,” the female rep offered. “We’re always on the cutting edge of innovation, so what’s new today is already old by tomorrow.”

I was shocked. Did that mean that every piece of technology I owned is already considered an antique? Could the iPod I bought six months ago already be eligible for Social Security? Maybe I should try and get on a show like “Cash in the Attic” or “Antique Roadshow” to discover just how much these popular relics might fetch in the modern marketplace. (I’m thinking not much.)

Technology has gotten so advanced that the evolution of a product from First Release to Tenth might happen within the space of a month rather than several years. The need to somehow “top” the last version with a whole new set of “bells and whistles” is enough to drive the average consumer crazy. (Or at least me.) How can we possibly hope to keep up? And why do we need to? Is it really necessary for me to see a movie in such crystal clear digitalization that I can spot a nose hair growing out of Jack Nicholson’s nostril? I think not.

(And don’t even get me started on the whole BlueRay BS. I have no desire to purchase one of those, because I know in two years it will be replaced by something even better. And I am not about to start my DVD collection all over again in another format. I already made the expensive transition from VHS to DVD, and I won’t be suckered into that again.)

Manufacturers are supposed to be reliable when it comes to replacing parts for all their models, especially if those products are released within the last five or ten years. But now products are developing so quickly and advancing so rapidly, manufacturers no longer see products as long-term purchases. So the support we once counted on might also become a thing of the past.

As for getting the parts I need for my camera, perhaps I’ll check the local “Big Lots Close-Out Warehouse” to see if any of the accessories have reached the bargain bin yet. Or maybe I should search eBay under “limited editions” or “rare collectibles.” Yet no matter what I do, I know it's not a long-term solution, as my camera’s life expectancy seems to be shortening by the day. By next month, I'll probably have to start searching for its cemetery plot.

But that’s just me. What’s your take on technology?