Nanu, nano: Sweatin’ to the oldies

My husband continues to force technology on me. But who knew it could connect you with your past and/or help you lose weight?

Hmmm…maybe I should start paying attention to his world.

Still, don’t even get me started about the time he single-handedly, and in secret, installed an entire TV, DVD, video game and stereo system in his car.

Didn’t know about that one for months until one day the mini television screen slid out from the center console by mistake as I was riding along.

My husband’s very covert when it comes to the latest electronic gadget.

(Don’t remind me of the time he bought me a cell phone; I made him return it).

That doesn’t mean I don’t always find out about his latest purchase: it’s called online banking, dude — that I love.

“So what did you buy from Apple, baby?” I ask, calling him at work one day last week.

“I got you an iPod,” he blurts out. “A nano.”

Say what? I’m not so disconnected that I don’t know about iPods, but the nano part threw me off. Like Mork and Mindy?

“No. It’s really small,” my husband explains.

“Why?” I ask.

Apparently, because smaller is way cooler.

I guess my husband’s last iPod wasn’t big enough, considering he lost it on the beach one wild summer night last year on the Eastern Shore. He squirmed with, fiddled and complained about the replacement generic MP3 player I got him for his birthday a few months later, but only after smiling politely at the gift. I wasn’t fooled.

“The software’s not compatible.”

“It’s too cumbersome.”

“I can’t use in my car.”

“It’s too big.”

Basically, he didn’t like it because it wasn’t an iPod.

That’s what he wanted in the first place and he wanted a replacement even though I felt he shouldn’t get one since he lost the first one.

Sigh. Picking my battles.

So my hubby orders the latest, smallest iPod without saying a word to me under the guise that he’s getting one for me too. Well, all right, we’ll see about that.

A few nights later, I arrive home and there’s a tiny plastic box on the coffee table. I know what it is, but ignore it.

Meanwhile, he’s already got hundreds of songs downloaded onto his. Don’t get me wrong. Technology is probably a good thing. But when people plug in, to an extent, they disconnect from the world. Guess that’s the point, though I can think of other ways of doing that.

And, I want to hear the birds. I want to wander away into the woods, Thoreau-style. I’d rather write letters with my pen than push buttons.

There’s something to be said, especially in this day and age, about being off the grid.

And so I resist when my husband, who lives for technology (he had a laser disc player once), tries to force it on me.

However, I was intrigued by the nano; mostly because it’s the exact size of my fifth grade eraser. Man. The days of pencils and erasers — good times.

Never thought I’d admit it, but I’m now having good times with my tiny green rectangle that magically plays songs at random from my specially selected song list. The thing has my name and phone number on it also, though I don’t know what good that does if my husband takes mine by mistake like he did the other day.

No, I don’t want to listen to your Motorhead.

But hey I can burn 50 calories on my treadmill in the time it takes to play one Grateful Dead song. Whew! That was a long song.

My iPod nano is revolutionizing the way I exercise. It actually makes me want to walk more.

Plus, I’m connecting with the artists from my infancy (not the Grateful Dead — way before my time) in a way never before experienced. Music was never so comprehensive or accessible.

Who knew there were 5,000 songs on our home computer?

Who knew there used to be so many protest singers and what they had to say is still relevant today?

In closing, I’m evolving when it comes to my husband’s technology. Hopefully, I’m shrinking as well.

Allison Brophy Champion can be reached at 825-0771 ext. 101 or