Four years ago, almost to the date, my wait was over. Apple released an iPod Photo that satiated my infatuation. I logged nearly half a million miles in international flights over the next 4 years and would not have survived without that puny $330 investment. It brought me escapes through hours of being strapped to the airplane seat. It coaxed me to the slumberland at those long jetlegged sleepless nights. When I was stuck in impossibily jammed Beijing traffic, it entertained me with stories from far away. When I felt homesick and isolated, it gave me Charles Gibson’s ABC news from home.
I have been eyeing iPod Touch since its debut. It would have been a worthy upgrade as long as it can hold my entire music collection plus all the podcast subscriptions. When the 32GB version showed up, I grabbed one right off the shelf. My first surprise was the box, in Apple white, of course; it is about the size of 2 decks of cards. I could have put the unopened package into my back pocket.
No AC charger brick? The package includes the iPod, several thin sheets of paper, an USB cable, a pair of ear buds, a simple stand, and that’s it. The bold assumptions Apple made: you must a computer that has iTunes. Apple saved money and bolstered the claim of user friendliness by not putting the manual in the box; you shouldn’t need any instructions.
What a feeling to have my iPod connected to the Net. Safari showed me the local weather and the map knew where I was. Video displayed crisp and bright. I found myself updating all the album arts (iTunes could do this automaticaly). I now share the glee of those iPhone owners.
This one costed me $390, about 4% annual increase per year, compared to my old one. On my bus rides, this iPod in my pocket, I let it, once again, take me to a far away land. I felt indulged and pleased, having a delightful toy.
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