Saturday, February 25, 2006

An MP3 Player in bed is too much like hard work

So the new MP3 player is taking a little time to slot into my millionaire lifestyle.

It has taught me new things about my "easy as" computer. Although following the hard drive failure 14 months in... we shall not speak of 12 month warranties... I already had an idea not to ever buy one of their PCs again, this was reaffirmed when I discovered that the handy USB port in the tower's front wasn't so handy when the machine is on the floor and you have to creep around on all fours trying to plug it in. That discomfort dealt with, I discovered that Windows had absolutely no notion that the player existed.

An hour of pushing and poking and cross-referencing on the Internet revealed that the ports in the back of the PC were a later version of USB, and that (naturally enough) following another episode of crawling about with the cat eying me nervously the player would plug in and Windows could recognise it.

I then proceded to download a heap of miscellaneous music from my PC. This consisted of a kind of rocky-pop playlist I have and a playlist of Blues from the 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s I'm still working on. As I was too busy practising inpromptu yoga among the computer cables, I haven't figured out the method (if any) of making new folders on the player, so they all went into the wash together.

Sunday last, Brig went out to meet her sister, so I had the perfect excuse to test the player. It hangs on a snazzy white rope thing from the neck, and it fits neatly up the jumper. I made a mental note to wear it differently when not in the privacy of my own home, because spasmodically stuffing one's hand up one's jumper in public to fiddle with the miniature player controls would probably frighten passersby.

On Monday night, I thought the soothing sounds might be restful, so I declared I was going to wear the player in bed. Brig looked kind of sideways at me over this, but she didn't make any objections.

"Goodnight," she said.

I popped out an earphone and said:

"What?"

"I said, Goodnight."

"Oh. Yes. Goodnight."

I popped the earphone back in.

"Is the clock set?"

I popped an earphone back out.

"What?"

"I said, is the clock set?"

"Of course the clock's set. Goodnight."

I popped the earphone back in.

"Don't forget to wake me if you hear the alarm clock."

I popped an earphone back out.

"What?"

"I said, don't forget to wake me if you hear the alarm clock."

"Okay."

I left the earphone out and waited. Nothing. I popped the earphone back in.

"Do you love me?"

"What?"

I popped the earphone back out.

"I said do you love me?"

"Yes I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I lay there looking up at the ceiling. After a few minutes the sounds of deeper breathing indicated she had at last fallen asleep.

"Deadly!"I thought and popped the earphone back in. Anastascia was being left outside alone. Then Big Bill Broonzy was digging his potatoes. Next Muddy Waters was wishing he was a catfish. Then Bon Jovi was having a nice day.

My two feet were waving back and forth in the bed like windshield wipers.

I was thinking:

"I'll just listen to one more then go asleep."

The "one more" turned into another. I thought I could cheat by using the "Next" button every so often. The sheer number of songs was getting the better of me. Years ago, when I wore those big heavy headphones while listening to an LP record, you had maybe 24 songs, tops. This yoke had a capacity for hundreds!

Finally, I'd had enough and switched it off. I extricated myself from the wiring and dropped the player gently onto the floor. I looked at the alarm clock.

"Two in the morning! Oh crap...!"

Work tomorrow, and here's me only going asleep at two! Oh well. I rolled over. The tune of "Diggin' my potatoes" was jumping along through my head. Washboard Sam was giving it socks on his favourite instrument and the jangling Blues guitar was making my toes twitch. And the MP3 player was switched off and under the bed!

It was a long night.

When the clock went off at six, I blearily opened one eye. I felt like death. I'd spent half the night rehashing the songs in my mind and when I did go to sleep I was dreaming about running around places looking for the MP3 player.

Okay. Not on the bus and not in bed. I'll let you know.

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