the curse of the digital age

They say the only thing worse than losing the entire contents of your iPod is losing your iPod altogether. Or maybe losing all the files on your hardrive.

"At least you still have your files," our friends say. Yes, we know. Truth is, we don't--at least not those we downloaded from others. Luckily, we're not big on file sharing, but that's more of a know-how issue than an attempt to stay true to any set of principles.

We turned on our iPod yesterday and discovered, much to our chagrin, that it was empty. No artists, no songs, no albums. Not even a measley playlist. And we can't look for them. We won't find Brendan Benson hiding out in a pocket of Curtis' dirty scrubs or Dylan's bootleg series ditched under our bed. If we had misplaced our iPod, at least we would have the luxury of dreaming of places it might turn up--like my sock drawer (ankle socks make great iPod covers) or the Rodeo's glove-box-turned-trash-receptacle. We are afforded no such comfort. Our files are not lost, rather they have ceased to exist.

Perhaps they have escaped to that big, black hole where those sent-but-never-received e-mails go--you know, the ones that contain invitations to parties and news of possible promotions. In which case, we rest assured they're in good company.

Fare thee well, and rest in peace sweet iPod music collection. We will miss those of you we had gotten to know.