Oh, oh, listen to the music
All the time
~ The Doobie Brothers
Sorry, faithful readers, I didn’t mean to be offline all week, but it just worked out that way. You see, last weekend, I stepped into the nanotechnology of the 21st century and bought myself an iPod.
Not to be overlooked is the fact that the iPod was an online purchase. That ordeal, in itself, took an hour or two. I “timed out” at least twice as I pondered my mind-boggling merchandise options. “The click of a mouse” is not always the easy and convenient way to fast results in the brave new cyber-century world of shopping.
I then spent uncharted hours figuring out how to load the music into my iTunes library. I still possess no discernable clue about setting up personal folders or “playlists,” but at last, all 615 of my maiden iPod tunes were loaded in—artists listed alphabetically, which seems to be the default (I think).
Stocking the music library was the least of my worries. When my techno-gadget arrived, I read the tiny little booklet of instructions. Then, I read it again. In fact, I read the mini-manual several times, seeking to establish a comfort zone with the concept of UBS ports and device connections.
Okay, by midweek I was ready to begin my quest for my computer’s magical music connection. Having a rather archaic (2003) Dell, I had to pull the cumbersome computer off the shelf that has been its home these many eons (in computer time). As with the disturbance of any ancient artifact, considerable quantities of dust took flight as it thunked onto the floor. I dragged out the vacuum cleaner for mop-up operations (to my dog’s great interest), then returned to the musical task at hand.
I viewed the forest of wires bursting from the computer’s rear end with no small amount of trepidation. Briefly, I thought of waiting until my IT goddess-daughter next came to visit. But, resolutely, I shook off that longing. I would figure out this techno-task on my own or crash my hard drive trying.
It wasn’t too difficult to find the magical connection. The computer had a white wire connection to a flat little gadget sitting atop the casing, which was marked “reader.” I gingerly pulled out the reader’s connection and noticed that the shape was identical to the iPod’s connector. A-ha! A secret pathway into the “F” drive! (Or, was that the “G” drive? Whatever.)
Sure enough, when I plugged the iPod into the reader’s port, a sudden message appeared on the screen announcing the addition of my personalized iPod. As with a bad dream, I’m not sure of the sequence of events after that. I hit a few keys, toggled the mouse buttons, and suddenly all 615 songs were transmuting themselves into my tiny little iPod.
I bought a teeny-tiny speaker set to match my "nano" iPod. The whole mini-system is now set up, sitting at my elbow and functioning fine. I’m still in the “A” section, and Aretha Franklin is serenading me as I type, bemoaning the fact that she “ain’t got Jack.” I hear ya, sistuh.
I suppose I'll figure out playlists eventually. Maybe I’ll let my IT goddess help me with that part. Meanwhile, excuse me while I jump back a few tracks to the Allman Brothers. I’ve just got to hear “Blue Sky” one more time…
Sorry, faithful readers, I didn’t mean to be offline all week, but it just worked out that way. You see, last weekend, I stepped into the nanotechnology of the 21st century and bought myself an iPod.
Not to be overlooked is the fact that the iPod was an online purchase. That ordeal, in itself, took an hour or two. I “timed out” at least twice as I pondered my mind-boggling merchandise options. “The click of a mouse” is not always the easy and convenient way to fast results in the brave new cyber-century world of shopping.
I then spent uncharted hours figuring out how to load the music into my iTunes library. I still possess no discernable clue about setting up personal folders or “playlists,” but at last, all 615 of my maiden iPod tunes were loaded in—artists listed alphabetically, which seems to be the default (I think).
Stocking the music library was the least of my worries. When my techno-gadget arrived, I read the tiny little booklet of instructions. Then, I read it again. In fact, I read the mini-manual several times, seeking to establish a comfort zone with the concept of UBS ports and device connections.
Okay, by midweek I was ready to begin my quest for my computer’s magical music connection. Having a rather archaic (2003) Dell, I had to pull the cumbersome computer off the shelf that has been its home these many eons (in computer time). As with the disturbance of any ancient artifact, considerable quantities of dust took flight as it thunked onto the floor. I dragged out the vacuum cleaner for mop-up operations (to my dog’s great interest), then returned to the musical task at hand.
I viewed the forest of wires bursting from the computer’s rear end with no small amount of trepidation. Briefly, I thought of waiting until my IT goddess-daughter next came to visit. But, resolutely, I shook off that longing. I would figure out this techno-task on my own or crash my hard drive trying.
It wasn’t too difficult to find the magical connection. The computer had a white wire connection to a flat little gadget sitting atop the casing, which was marked “reader.” I gingerly pulled out the reader’s connection and noticed that the shape was identical to the iPod’s connector. A-ha! A secret pathway into the “F” drive! (Or, was that the “G” drive? Whatever.)
Sure enough, when I plugged the iPod into the reader’s port, a sudden message appeared on the screen announcing the addition of my personalized iPod. As with a bad dream, I’m not sure of the sequence of events after that. I hit a few keys, toggled the mouse buttons, and suddenly all 615 songs were transmuting themselves into my tiny little iPod.
I bought a teeny-tiny speaker set to match my "nano" iPod. The whole mini-system is now set up, sitting at my elbow and functioning fine. I’m still in the “A” section, and Aretha Franklin is serenading me as I type, bemoaning the fact that she “ain’t got Jack.” I hear ya, sistuh.
I suppose I'll figure out playlists eventually. Maybe I’ll let my IT goddess help me with that part. Meanwhile, excuse me while I jump back a few tracks to the Allman Brothers. I’ve just got to hear “Blue Sky” one more time…
