I was doing a little dance on the subway platform. I was standing behind a dirty, purple column, so that no one could see me. I was waiting for the uptown F train. I was listening to the iPod¹. I was somehow avoiding death. And it occurred to me that I should start a new band.
"Congratulations," the comment began.
I have a full-length commute. It lasts just about as long as an album. For instance, if I plug in the iPod and press play on Dinosaur Jr.'s <i>Beyond</i> just as I leave my apartment, the album comes to a glorious end exactly as I enter our office's elevators. This was a great discovery.
Dad,<br>
It's difficult for me to think of good times with you, but something that does come to mind is how you'd translate those wonderful Ruben Blades songs for me, word for word.
Well, I can tell you this:
I mentioned that I'd had some trouble getting the Shure SE310 in-ear headphones to fit comfortably, and I wanted to experiment with different nozzle sleeves. Removing the sleeves from the SE310s took more effort than I'd imagined. Not that it was <i>difficult</i> like it can be difficult to carry a 50-lb amp up three flights of stairs, but more that it was <i>tricky</i> like it can be tricky to cajole speaker cable from a tight grip in a small space. I suppose it's a good thing that the sleeves hug their nozzles with such dedication. You wouldn't want them slipping off in your ear.
<b>WP</b>: You do know tomorrow's his birthday, right?
I suppose it was about five years ago. Erica was explaining that some dude had accidentally erased all of the music on her "iPod." This, apparently, was some sort of tragedy. I tried to sympathize. "I can't believe that jerk! Are you alright?" I consoled.
"I don't understand it," I said to John. "With all of these people out there listening to their iPods, how is it that the entire city isn't dancing like mad?"
