4thgenipodIt had to happen.

It was inevitable.

 Destiny, whatever, it’s gone.

 Uncle E’s iPod is no more. The story of it’s demise is short but horrifying, so for those of you with weak stomaches…best move on now. I was picking weeds in the front yard when all of a sudden I felt something slide from my breast pocket and hit the pavement with a sickening “crack!” I look down and spot my 80 GB friend of almost two years lying there with a tiny little dent in it’s head.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…”, I cried. Birds flew off the telephone poll and neighbors scurried their children into their houses for fear that whoever belonged to that unholy scream might be coming for them next. I slowly bent down, picked up my buddy from the sidewalk, cradled him in my dirt ridden hands and wept. I ran him inside and called technical support at Apple headquarters in Cupertino, California and got someone named Phil. He seemed sympathetic at first. We went through about 45 minutes of troubleshooting and then he asked me the question: “So, dude…how hard DID you slam the thing?” I lied at first and said “just a little teensy bit, Phil, maybe just a few inches from the ground.” He calls me on it. “Come on Uncle E, truth now. How bad was the fall?” I sheepishly reply, “Pretty bad, Phil, pretty bad, about two feet and landing on concrete.” He then informs me that there was nothing more he could do. I could either send it to an authorized Apple repair shop for about $180 or, and here’s the rub, I could simply purchase a refurbished one for about the same amount. Lucky me, but money’s tight, so I think I’ll be going without for a while.

Oh well, time to unpack those cd’s I just packed…