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Have you ever bought something then wished you’d gotten a
different model? I just did. I bought an iPod Nano 7th generation and after
shopping accessories I wish I’d gotten the 6th generation because you can turn
them into neat watches with after-market wristbands and the clock app. They
sell a cheaper silicone wristband for the 7th generation but who wants to look
like you’re wearing a credit card on your wrist? I never guessed that going
smaller than a credit card could actually be an advantage, or that someday I’d
own a tiny device that could play pod casts, movies, books or hold a thousand
songs and also be a voice recorder or a radio for when I’m out walking. I love
the recorder app because I get a lot of good ideas when on the nature trails
and this device will keep me from forgetting stuff.
In my garage I have a 14” x 20” radio built when radio
stations first started broadcasting in the early 1920s and it was popular to
send away for tubes, knobs, wires and plans to build a radio to receive their
signals. It has earphones the size of the Titanic to listen in private and a
horn style speaker to use for group listening. The speaker stands two foot tall
and was designed by Thomas Edison himself. Amazing isn’t it, the technological
changes that take place in roughly 100 years. I can’t wait until the next
little kid comes over for ‘show and tell’ so I can compare my new iPod to the
walnut radio. If I was tech savvy enough I’d figure out a way to hook the iPod
up to the two foot tall horn speaker then go out walking with that combo in
tow. That would be a head turner, wouldn’t it? I know someone who took a 100
year old manual typewriter and turned it into a computer keyboard. It’s
mind-boggling what kids can do these days.
Lately I’ve been vacillating between feeling like I have a
lot of quality time ahead for new goals and panicking because I feel like time
in running out. Back and forth I go. The reevaluation of priorities and options
that most widows seem go through in their second year out has me back on the
train to Crazyville. And still other times I think the Prime Country radio
station is conspiring to tie me to the tracks as an approaching train is coming
at full speed. Yesterday on my way to the grocery story Clint Black was
singing, “There’s no time to kill between the cradle and the grave.” No shit,
Sherlock! Too bad you didn’t tell me that fifty-sixty years ago. I’ve wasted
too much time in my life.
“Father Time still takes a toll on every minute that you
save
Legal tender's never gonna change the number on your days
The highest cost of livin's dyin', that's one everybody pays
So have it spent before you get the bill, there's no time to
kill.”
Even the March weather seems to mirror my vacillating moods.
Two days ago it was like spring. Today I’m looking at five inches of snow
outside my window. I want spring! I want clear and solid decisions regarding
what I want my future to look like. But then again maybe I’m putting too much
pressure on myself. Maybe life is meant to be fluid and flowing from one place
to another, less structured and free of stressful decisions and schedules.
“But I can look ahead and see that time ain't standin' still
No time to kill but time to change the kind of hurry I've
been in
And quit this work and worry lookin' back at where I've been
You don’t look ahead nobody will, no time to kill, no time
to kill.”
I almost wished I’d heard those lyrics before I bought the
iPod. Do you know how much time you can kill at iTunes? How do I get myself
into time robbing stuff like this when I have other dragons to slay? Four years
ago President Obama gave Queen Elizabeth II a personalized iPod that has video
capabilities---she already had one that had audio and had expressed a desire to
upgrade. He took a lot of criticism from Republicans for giving that gift but
from all accounts, she loved it. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only old
woman on the planet who lusted after an iPod. I only wish I had the staff she
has to upload music into the tiny thing! I just want to play it, not spend my
life setting it up, and I’ll bet my husband’s uncle felt the exact, same way
when he built the radio that sits in the garage. The more things change, the
more they stay the same. ©
Painting above: Salvado Dali's Persistence of Memory 1931
Painting above: Salvado Dali's Persistence of Memory 1931
