Why can’t I come up with cool shit like this? This tattooed, professional body piercer implanted four metal studs into his skin to hold his sixth generation iPod Nano. I saw that and was like “Yeah man, that’s what I need. I gotta make me an appointment with this guy.” I’m always searching for a convenient spot for my iPod and I’ve tried almost everything.
When I’m jogging I can’t stand my iPod bouncing around in my shorts. It feels like there’s a small agitated monkey in there. I’m already in a piss-poor mood when I first set out (especially if it’s above ninety or below thirty degrees outside,) and the jiggling makes me want to break into the nearest dwelling and beat someone upon their head and neck. (Kidding!) After a mile, though, I settle into a more peaceful place.
My fourth generation iPod Nano (okay, this “generation” nonsense is getting on my nerves) like the one in the photo will shuffle away from what I’m listening to if I shake it, intentionally or not. It’s the worst idea ever; nice going Jobs. I’ll venture into the settings to turn off this lame feature, but it always comes back on, like it’s an evil mini-robot sent here to mess with me, probably to kill me. The other day the stupid thing seized up, and then iTunes told me that it couldn’t recognize it anymore. Another clue that it’s planning to murder me in my sleep. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
Back when Nano was sane and functional, I’d dress it up in a rubber suit and strap it to my right bicep with a Velcro strap. It was a decent solution, but it’s uncomfortable after 30 minutes and I’ve experienced strap tightness issues: too tight, my whole arm goes purple and dies . . . too loose and it slides down towards my wrist. Also, I have to contort my arm to look at the tiny screen and that’s almost impossible on the run.
My old Shuffle was fantastic for exercising. Before I gave it to Ainsley (and before it was filled with every Alvin and the Chipmunks song ever recorded,) I would clip that bad boy onto my neckband, shove the ear bud cord down my shirt, and hit the streets. My new fourth generation Shuffle is too small. I occasionally pop it into my mouth thinking it’s a mint. Unfortunately, it stopped working last week. It’s definitely in cahoots with Nano.
So this week I’ve been using Ainsley’s iPod Touch, which looks like it’s been tossed from a moving car twelve or thirteen times. Here’s a fun thing to do: give a delicate, expensive gadget to a six-year-old, and then check on it in six months. If it’s not, just, GONE, then it will certainly be beat to holy hell. The screen is shattered; I’m waiting on one of us to slice a finger off playing Temple Run. This is the same child who, to clean her Nintendo DS, rinsed it under running water. Needless to say, the “techno-bath” turned it into a hundred dollar paperweight.
Really, the larger problem has always been the earphone cord. Sure, this “studly” guy’s wrist-pod looks cool without wires hanging from it. If a “strapless” watch is all he wants–okay, I’m souring on this idea. God, I’m glad I didn’t go through with my implants. I mean, this genius didn’t do a dang thing for the headphone problem. Now, if he would’ve implanted the cord too, then we have something to talk about here.
And what about the lightning pace of change in the portable music market? How many magnets would it have required to securely haul a 1979 Sony Walkman? Eventually, the player will be IN the buds, activated by voice. Oooh, I just excited myself right there. Wouldn’t that be awesome: no wires, no armbands, no pocket jiggling, no implants.
I’m gonna go invent that real quick before lunch.