Guilty Pleasures, AKA What’s On Your iPod
Okay, so I recently got an iPod, the 20GB model. I love it. I just loves me some iPod goodness. The thing is, I really don’t need all the space it has on it. It holds about 5000 songs, and my current usage is about 500 songs. The nice thing about it is that if you like a particular band or performer, you don’t have to pick and choose what individual tracks you want on it, you can just choose them all. The bad thing about that is, well, you have all the tracks. I like punk, but I can’t stand the Beastie Boys punk stuff.
But it’s on there. And I don’t take it off, because, well, I am trying to justify that 20GB.
Anywho, I was talking with some people about music lately, and we were discussing bad music. The freedom of the iPod is that you can take your music anywhere, anytime. Since my Caddy has a really crappy (read: cassette) stereo, I just use an adapter to play from my iPod to the stereo. That way I’m not stuck with Milwaukee’s lousy radio stations (WMSE, please don’t be offended by this).
So, I’m tooling along in the Caddy with the wife and she is liking what I’ve got playing, which is a shuffle of the 500 or so tunes on the thing. Then it happens. The guilty pleasure song. The song that you have on the iPod, or on a playlist at home, or on a mix CD you burned that you normally wouldn’t be caught dead nodding your head and tapping your feet to, but it’s there. It’s there like a turd on the carpet and you can’t next-track-button fast enough. The fact is, you chose this song. You decided to play it. And now you’re embarassed. The person who hears you listening to it is embarassed for both of you.
I’ll even be so bold as to share what mine is, and I encourage you to do the same. Mine is…
…wait for it…
Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey.
Ugh! I said it! I hate myself for sharing that. Now, what’s yours? I know Johnny Mack listens to some real crap from time to time and isn’t ashamed to admit it. Jimmy the Deuce also listens to shit I thought was illegal to play any more. What is yours? Come on. I triple dog dare you.
Anywho, I was talking with some people about music lately, and we were discussing bad music. The freedom of the iPod is that you can take your music anywhere, anytime. Since my Caddy has a really crappy (read: cassette) stereo, I just use an adapter to play from my iPod to the stereo. That way I’m not stuck with Milwaukee’s lousy radio stations (WMSE, please don’t be offended by this).
So, I’m tooling along in the Caddy with the wife and she is liking what I’ve got playing, which is a shuffle of the 500 or so tunes on the thing. Then it happens. The guilty pleasure song. The song that you have on the iPod, or on a playlist at home, or on a mix CD you burned that you normally wouldn’t be caught dead nodding your head and tapping your feet to, but it’s there. It’s there like a turd on the carpet and you can’t next-track-button fast enough. The fact is, you chose this song. You decided to play it. And now you’re embarassed. The person who hears you listening to it is embarassed for both of you.
I’ll even be so bold as to share what mine is, and I encourage you to do the same. Mine is…
…wait for it…
Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey.
Ugh! I said it! I hate myself for sharing that. Now, what’s yours? I know Johnny Mack listens to some real crap from time to time and isn’t ashamed to admit it. Jimmy the Deuce also listens to shit I thought was illegal to play any more. What is yours? Come on. I triple dog dare you.
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