We may have reinvented youth … but that doesn’t mean we can’t steal a little from the youth of today! That’s what boomer writer Laurey Boyd has done in this iPod Pretty World.
Why don’t we take a little piece of summer sky, hang it on a tree. For that’s the way to start to make a pretty world for you and for me.
~ Sergio Mendez, Brazil ‘66
My husband gave me an iPod for my birthday. We’re always behind on the tech curve. They’ve been de rigueur for years but with acquired financial stoicism we have foregone most things not truly needed.
I knew an iPod would be nice storage-wise. A portable music alternative, the Scion xB, can only hold so many CDs. Also, changing discs on the hilly, curvy road on which we live is not an option. Our car even came with a special jack for just such auxiliary devices as iPods. Do they know the youth market, or what? Young people may be limited in what they can spend on a car (in which case, my husband Bill and I are eternally youthful) but there’s no compromising on the music, man. I want my, I want my, I want my I P O D !
Now I understand why.
It’s addictive. With the ear plugs, you are in your own little aural world. The master of your parallel universe, transported mentally (if not Star Trek physically) to whatever mood and landscape you desire.
My destination of choice is what I call skating rink music – surely this expression of taste sets me apart from the kids, but it’s the stuff I listened to in my adolescent years as I glided round and round “Broadway Skateland.”
I was crystal-blue persuaded back then of a prettier world than the grim one at home. There was a love train to take me there. Love could make me happy. How could I be sure? “I’ll be sure with you” whoever “you” was— an eventuality I’d just have to wait and see about. In the meantime, I could keep things loose and light by dancing in the moonlight of the faceted mirror ball casting glittery sparkles over the darkened arena.
My kids gave me an iTunes credit card for Mother’s Day. I downloaded lots of ‘60s/70s stuff. Now they’re imprinted in my brain whether I’m listening to the iPod or not. They accompany me through my day.
As I stand next to my husband in church, I tap out the rhythms of the sung prayers on the pew in front of me. Right hand steady beat, left hand intermittent. My internal boom box, to use a retro term, is firmly fixed, my musical formation having been completed long ago. Although it sometimes distracts me from total focus, I don’t mind. How could God hold against me the metronome He put in me? Or the appreciation for something so ethereal as music. God knows it’s been my salvation.
Whether running errands in my boxy little car going up and down the hills, or tapping the rhythms of the music from church, I rejoice in the simple pleasures of my iPod.
Category: Boomer Lifestyle