My iPod is so old, it predates the click-wheel. And requires a charging dock.
And I love it. It's 40GB of pure joy, including everything the Beatles have ever recorded (5GB). And it's engraved with "Harold A. Gimenez Ch." on the back. Because originally it was Harold's.
When we moved we didn't bring our cds because we hadn't listened to them since we got married and figured we could do without them for another 16 months. Brilliant idea! Way to maximize the space in the moving pod! Right?!
Wrong. Now that I spend so much time in my apartment, cooking, cleaning, sewing and reading (ie: being a 1950s housewife), I was missing my cds. The music on our computer is mostly Mr. Yin's and he changes it around a lot. And it lacks music that speaks to my soul.
Thankfully (to Harold) I have the iPod. Except I couldn't find the charging dock for about 6 weeks. I even tried to charge it with the special iPod adapter in the car. No luck. I was getting mopey without my good tunes.
Last week I went crazy and searched and searched until I found it. And find it I did. Under the bathroom sink in the box with light bulbs and golf balls. (Limited storage, you see.)
It was one of the best days of my life in AZ.
John Denver and the Indigo Girls are back and singing to my soul.
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