How DO they do it? When we bought our first 3 iPods back in 2003 (they were 10, 15 and 20 Gigabytes respectively) they didn’t just look moderne; no, they looked as though they had dropped from the future through a wormhole in the space/time continuum. Recently, though, they have succumbed to hard use and (perhaps) questionable musical tastes. And now, as we eagerly rush back into our MacRoom after a quick trip to Target to exchange a swipe of plastic for a BRAN’ NEW SILVER IPOD CLASSIC, they look… look… old. How?
They are still exceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them, and they still are as cute as an unopened pack of menthol cigarettes to a Catholic High School girl, and they are still encased in that same well nigh indestructible top-secret material the Feds used to trap Gort the Robot, but now, all at once, they look old.
Okay, it’s true the screens are monotone… but, no, no, that couldn’t be it, because even with both gadgets turned off the new purchase next to the old is Buzz Lightyear next to Woody. Our beloved super-jazzy über-Jetson Space Odyssey beam-me-up resistance-is-futile tomorrowland personal-jetpack iPods suddenly look like the Victrola in the “His Master’s Voice” RCA trademark. It’s not the color screen; it’s something else. Fairy dust. Steve Job’s aura. Voodoo. Something…
Well, whatever it is, it’s permanent, right?
