Let's face it: College students love the good life.
We relish in luxurious naps. We worship our perpetually flowing beer supply. We live it up, no matter what those heart-wrenching white receipts claim. "Balance: $3.76? Awesome! Three slices at Canyon Pizza with change to spare."
However, as broke as we are, we also somehow sustain an appreciation for more luxurious things. Don't believe me? Count the Razr phones and Ugg boots on campus. We are fashionable, chic and more technologically advanced than a vast number of small countries.
Yet some of us don't have the opportunity to delight in such expensive pleasures. For instance, imagine the most basic hi-tech device many of us take for granted: the iPod. Many of you have owned an iPod for some time, and include listening to one in the same fundamental category as breathing and eating. I, on the other hand, do not.
Yes, for a long time, I was one of those underprivileged gym-goers who could be spotted clutching a bottle of water in one hand and that prehistoric spherical contraption in the other, the "Discman." For those of you who may have trouble recalling this era in popular culture, unlike MP3 players, this Discman was used in conjunction with flat metal discs known as CDs, or compact discs.
Say it with me now, com-pact-disc.
Indeed, we were a rare species. I could read the looks of astonishment in many people's eyes as I passed with my trusty old friend. "Dude, did you see that? That wasn't an iPod. I think I've heard about her kind before. How do they sleep at night?" Sadly, I had missed the Apple bandwagon.
Laugh it up, MP3 owners, I'd grumble bitterly to myself on the elliptical as my CD would begin skipping and I'd be forced to take it out and wipe it off on my shirt. At that point I might as well have been waving a huge flag that said, "Look at me everybody, I'm too threatened by change to adapt to modern technological advancements and the social conventions of my peers."
Sometimes my arm would get hooked in my earphone wires, resulting in the catastrophic explosion of my Discman on the floor, forcing me to crawl under treadmills to retrieve my lost batteries while wondering why my life sucks.
Don't get me wrong -- my Discman and I had some good times together. From long car trips to Forum lectures, we were inseparable. But three years of use had seen it long past its heyday. It was scratched, the plastic cover was broken, and sometimes during a song it would randomly skip to the middle of a completely different track.
"Oh, I guess you don't want to play Lynyrd Skynyrd right now, even though I was jamming. Let's just hear the last minute of 'Seed 2.0' instead. That's cool, I guess."
No, it wasn't cool at all.
Typically, I am prone to avoiding "the crowd" at all costs.
If it weren't for the fact that I couldn't pay my phone bill and had to re-join my family plan as the wireless prodigal daughter, I'd still have the classic Nokia Candybar. But this was one area where I had to admit that a small MP3 player was more practical, less aggravating and much cooler.
So, thankfully, this Christmas was a turning point in my fitness and class-going career. Drum roll please ... I received an iPod Nano. Sleek, black, shiny... it was my dream come true. Now when I go to workout, I can stand tall, walk proud and not worry about whether my batteries have already fallen out of the back.
I love my Discman, and I know that I'll probably still listen to it when I get too lazy to upload songs. Discman, you have served me well, but now it is time to retire to the "drawer of forgotten crap" along with my Walkman and Gigapet. And yet I wonder how soon the next musical gadget revolution will occur, forcing all of us to retire our iPods in the same manner.
In the meantime, I am happy to announce that I have joined the ranks of the thousands of Apple lovers at Penn State who can listen to an iPod as they take a nap after drinking watery beer and wait for their wings to be delivered. For those loyal Discman owners still out there, wherever you are, be strong, and fight the power.
