Spoiled

I need to write. I need to express the thought that is flooding my entire being at this moment and, though my topic may seem superficial, hear me out. I may surprise you. I may disappoint, convict or please, but whatever the response, I must first explain.

I just got my iPod.

Ah ha, you think, she is going to brag or rave or ooze all over us, talking about just how amazing this little device is, and how terribly unlucky or unworthy I am to not have one.

Wrong.

I met my iPod this evening with mixed feelings. I was, of course, both expecting and anticipating its arrival, as I had, only days before, ordered it online. With space for 7000+ songs, it is a classy iPod in black, and it literally has my name on it. I fell in love at once. Or perhaps, I fell in lust.You see, I have always wanted an iPod. Always wanted, never needed. Until about two weeks ago, I had never thought of actually purchasing such a thing, and even when my sister’s red Nano was delivered, I suppressed my envy and eventually forgot all about it. Suddenly, in the rush and thrill of leaving for school, a passing conversation caught my subconscious consumer off guard.
“Do you want an iPod?”

I didn’t know that was an option! My response was immediate. In fact, my mind had nothing to do with what my mouth said. Reason and thought were abandoned at the verbalized opportunity to own, for myself, such a prestigious possession. “Yes!” I replied.

Thus my present situation. Only moments ago, a Kleenex-sized box sat on my bed. I also sat on my bed. I took a deep breath, and about 20 seconds later the packaging had found a new home on my floor (next to a few socks and an earring) and I was caught in the deadlock stare of this mysterious machine. Silence overcame both of us, and just as I thought I was going to defeat the threatening gaze of my iPod, something tapped. Something tapped, aggressively, violently, at the back of my mind. “Why do you have this,” it demanded. “You don’t need it and you know it. It’s a little bit ridiculous that you bought it anyway. What now, girl?”

I recognized this voice. It was my white shoulder angel. You know the kind. You may call it something else, but we all have them. Mine is white and cartoon and usually disappointed or peeved. “It’s like this,” I explain. My thoughts are a little bit shaky at this point; cartoon projections so close to your face are even more intimidating than the exceptionally clever iPod. Somehow I find my voice. “An iPod is a very useful thing. It memorizes music better than I do, and I can record myself whenever I have a completely brilliant idea. Therefore, my iPod is an educational aid, not a westernized cultural fad”. I winked at my shoulder angel. He didn’t seem convinced.

So we cut a deal. I told him I would write out the whole drama (while still claiming my sanity), and leave it to my mind for a while. I do like my iPod. We’ve made friends and are going out for a stroll in the morning after I fix it up with a tune or two. I like that I bought it for myself and that it bears my full name and an important personal reminder. The flustration will pass. And yet, something remains subtly unsettled in my mind. Perhaps it is the fact that I am completely under the spell of the media, or the realization of such a fact. Whatever it might be, whatever your mind is concluding from this tale, the story’s been told. I leave you with one last thing and it is simply this: enjoy being spoiled.