Seven years later, I now admit that I am addicted to technology. Plasma, high definition, DLP, and anything else that is available at the local Circuit City. It was the iPod that opened my eyes. I am becoming fascinated by technology simply because of the way it is evolving music (mass-storage), film (extra-features), and literature (archives on DVD). Let me be clear: I am interested in the effects of technology, not the technology of technology. Just because I’m becoming more technological does not mean I have to start appreciating science fiction. I find myself amazed by the fact that 15,000 songs can be squeezed into a stylish device the size of a deck of cards. The iPod provides music lovers with mass quantity and an obsessively compulsively organized quality.

Most importantly, it eliminates the hassle of burning mix CD’s and the duty of keeping AA batteries on hand wherever you take your walkman. Although it is forty times the price of a walkman, the iPod is infinitely superior. Actually, it’s downright beautiful. I think the defining beauty of the iPod lies in the fact that on any given day I can travel from the present day to 1987. I don't need a time machine, frosted jeans, or even a Chevy Camaro. All I have to do is find Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" and the leap instantly takes place. When that song ends, I can either stay in '87 and listen to "She's Like the Wind" by Patrick Swayze, or simply keep walking. Then, while looking at my reflection in the closest window, I could play "You're So Vain" by Carly Simon as I simultaneously jump back to 1972. And even though the scarf I usually wear is not apricot, the fact that I’m neither walking into a party nor onto a yacht is irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that when that song comes on, I instantly begin to swagger to the pace of what I imagine to be the pace of Mick Jagger circa 1971, the person whom that song may or may not be about.

I predict that I will one day own an entire family of these devices (I now own two). It’s a parasitic relationship, my iPod and I but I’m the parasite. I can only survive by sucking the music out of life as life continuously tries to suck the life out of me. In a bizarre way, we are all becoming iPod-dependent. Much like the cell-phone trends of the late-nineties, the iPods and their accessories are affecting fashion, automobiles, and the media worldwide. With models, anorexia and coke are out; the iPod is in. Celebrities are endorsing their personal playlists. Hell, even G-Dub himself admitted how much he enjoys jogging to Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl.” So one can realistically say that the iPod is bigger than the Beatles, even though Apple doesn’t own the rights to any of their songs.

Although I am fascinated by the capabilities of the iPod’s potential greatness, I also need to admit something else. I fear it. I fear the iPod! Soon, in a post-Christmas campus/city near you, everyone will be hauling around these cute little silver devices. It will be quite eerie, just like a Hitchcock film... no, wait, a Hitchcock film on DVD. Just because this all seems ridiculous, doesn’t mean that it is. What it means is that if this trend is too much for you to digest, you can always go back to 1987, and that in itself is worth 400 bucks.