I Pod. Your good name?

Posted on | April 29, 2009 | Comments

Over 72 hours have passed since I picked up this 120 GB music box. Life hasn’t been the same. What do you expect happens when an uncool fogey like me does the cool do?

“What a bore. You should have gone for the funkier Shuffle.”

Sorry.

To shuffle was a no-no when I was a kid. There were more elegant ways of walking or dancing, you know.

Never mind.

So I picked up this thing and packed it with all the songs I could lay my hands on. And there I was. The box tucked into my rear jean pocket, two white wires surreptitiously snaking their way up into my ears.

The usual drive to office was spent listening to Dire Straits. It was all fine since I was by myself. Consciousness happened when I hit work. The way the liftman looked at me, he must have thought I was wired.

(The office lift door has a reflective finish on the inside – people usually check each other out while pretending to wait for the doors to open)

Anyone else would NOT have elicited a similar reaction. I was convinced about that, by the time I got off on my floor.

Never mind.

The vision of me and the surreptitious white wires invited comments and looks. The “What a bore. You should have gone for the funkier Shuffle” one for example. The rest of the day the ‘thing’ was brought out for little durations, put on and then quickly put back into my laptop case.

I was going through the tentative familiarity motions. You see, had it been a walkman or something, it would have been fine.

But this?

This was the ‘thing’. The ‘pod‘.

I know people who are dying to lay their hands on one. And I had it. When something like that happens to an uncool fogey, it’s the beginning of a initial self-evaluatory phase.

Uncool plus cool equals uncool? Or cool?
Doesn’t that change the entire perspective?

Never mind.

The next day was key. I was flying to the capital city. Exposure to hitherto unknown, uncaring, unconcerned passengers.
This was the brutal test. This was it.

I walked into the airport, early morn. Nothing happened. Not a second glance.
Only the lady at the check-in counter spoke a bit loudly.

CAN I SEE YOUR PHOTO ID PLEASE?

Yes you can. And I can hear you. I switched the ‘thing’ off before walking up to you.
(This wasn’t helping my confidence levels at all.)

The security check chap didn’t get to admire the new me – I had to stuff the ‘thing’ into the baggage.

But I did run into Diana Hayden after that.

I don’t think she would have looked at me any differently had I not had the two surreptitious white wires snaking into my ears. But she did look at me I thought.

• Voice in Diana Hayden’s Head – Option 1: Cool.
• Voice in Diana Hayden’s Head – Option 2: What’s that fool doing with something cool like that?

See?

The ‘thing’ had started playing games with my simple ordinary mind.

Never mind.  My chosen playlist for the flight was recently released Hindi music. I was finally beginning to enjoy myself. I bobbed my head a couple of times to the song. That’s when I noticed my co-passenger. The elderly gentleman in the aisle seat had one eye on me.
The ‘thing’ with the surreptitious white wires disappearing into my ears were worrying him, I am sure.

• Voice in Elderly Gentleman’s Head – Option 1: Isn’t he interfering with the plane’s communication system?
• Voice in Elderly Gentleman’s Head – Option 2: Poor chap. To have lost his hearing so early. Truly unfair.

See?

The ‘thing’ had started playing games with other simple ordinary minds as well.

I switched it off. This was not going the way I had imagined.

Isn’t being cool all about looking totally unconcerned about something cool you have?
If it is, I was headed in the polar opposite direction.

I don’t want to burden anyone with what happened over the rest of my trip and on the flight back.
Maybe in another post. For now, I think it will take some time for the Pod and me to find our common groove. We are still struggling to find an ice-breaker.

Something like the title of this post…

Maybe.

P.S. Ashwini and Meraj, flattering to know I was missed .