I am too impatient to use my iPod, which is a sweet little first generation Nano. Actually, I associate using an iPod only with traveling. And loneliness. Like looking at huge and important things and trying to remember every detail of how seeing it made you feel special so that when you got home you could share it with someone you care about. And how the song that was playing on your iPod at that moment will forever been linked to that scene. My personal Red Riding Hat. Blah blah blah.
Honestly, I probably stopped using my iPod because I wanted to eliminate that cheeseball thought process that is now embarrassing to remember.
I also remember studying abroad in Italy and being flustered when my friends would only take out one earbud when talking to me. With that in mind, imagine how bizarre the iPod generation must be to an old man poet? Except he does something truly beautiful with his observations, check it out:
Earbud, by Bill Holm
Earbud--a tiny marble sheathed in foam
to wear like an interior earring so you
can enjoy private noises wherever you go,
protected from any sudden silence.
Only check your batteries, then copy
a thousand secret songs and stories
on the tiny pod you carry in your pocket.
You are safe now from other noises made
by other people, other machines, by chance,
noises you have not chosen as your own.
To get your attention, I touch your arm
to show you the tornado or the polar bear.
Sometimes I catch you humming or talking to the air
as if to a shrunken lover waiting in your ear.