New-Age Rev(elation)olution

I used to mock people who had iPods permanently super-glued to their bodies. I used to say “Do you ever not listen to music?”, and I would proceed to chuckle in a patronizing fashion, thinking myself above such things.
Well, I was wrong.
I had my serendipitous revelation on a gloomy weekday morning, commuting to school earlier than usual. Having whirl-winded out of the house like the typical hurried morning, I had arrived at my bus stop with an armful of things I had grabbed on my way out of the house. Keys in one pocket, coffee mug in one hand, backpack dangling off the right shoulder (and giving me a cramp already), and an Eggo for eating on the go.
It seemed a good tactic that worked well—rush out of the house carrying everything so as to not forget to bring anything. Apparently, I wasn’t always spot-on with gathering all my belongings, because when I finally settled myself uncomfortably between two intruding-onto-my-seat fellow commuters, I’d realized my iPod was not in my usual pocket.
Flummoxed, I started patting down the rest of my backpack with the precision of a maximum-security prison guard, until I forced myself to accept the fact that I would be going music-less all day. I let it sink in for a few moments, as I tried to focus on something other than the fact that the lady next to me was speaking unceremoniously loudly on her cell phone. If I had my music, I wouldn’t have to hear her yammering, I had thought to myself with bitterness.
I then sighed loudly, stoically resisting the urge to cry out in frustration, and trying to find interest in the bus full of people standing amongst me instead. One woman was scribbling erratically on a piece of paper with ridiculous concentration; one man was reading the Metro in an obscure corner; a few others seemed lost in their own heads as they stared straight forward at the multi-faceted, shimmering, hypnotic blacks of the bus seat in front of them. I felt bored already. What would I do during my work periods during class? What would I fiddle around with on my down time? What would I let tranquilize me as I headed back home on the bus after a terribly long day of high school?
Ten minutes into my bus trip, I shifted in my seat trying to find a better way to nestle between two people without actually touching them—I have a thing about no physical contact between pure strangers—when I felt a lump in my left pocket grind into my thigh. I reached down to inspect the obtrusive object, and as my fingers groped around and then felt the familiar blunt, rectangular figure of my iPod, I hurrahed with joy inside.
So I didn’t forget it after all!
I felt my inner triumphant self pumping its fist in the air, obviously fervent that my ears would no longer be an empty hole with nothing to be filled with.
All at once, as I let my euphoria slowly fade away, I felt dismay filling its place. Why had I been so upset that I would be going one school day, or rather eight hours, without a little music? Was I really so dependent on a little contraption that was ultimately not crucial for my survival?
Yes, I thought to myself. Yes, I was extremely dependent upon it. If someone asked me to bring one thing with me to go anywhere, I would be grabbing my iPod—no doubt about it. Maybe even if our destination was something like a deserted island. At least I would be entertained.
Then, I recalled my friends and their emotional attachments to their cell phones. Well I, unlike them, had chosen my good old mp3 player as my permanent lover instead. It was not really that different—most of us have an innate instinct to rely on some form of technology as our personal safety nets. Whether some people need to be able to have constant communication with others, or whether some need something to erase the reality of it all, we are all looking for the same thing. And we are turning to our fancy state-of-the-art toys to do so—not the same things our parents would have had.
So, as I look down at my beautiful companion sometimes, I feel nothing but a wave of love and adoration—oh, you have pulled me through so much!—and can’t resist sending a prayer to the big guy for giving those marvellous Apple people great, big brains.