iPod alert!

When we took the still unnamed CRV back into the shop to have the dum-dums fix the dent they caused when it was originally there, my iPod, Nwanda, was hidden in its super sekrit hiding place, which you have to really be looking for. Anyway, I noticed it missing after Rod brought it back home. I called the company after searching high and low for Nwanda. (Those of you who know me, my iPod is as important to me as, say, air.) Anyway, I spoke to the GM and he gave me the "We've never had theft in our 30-year company history..." BLAH BLAH. He said he'd review the tape and get back with me. I called 3-4 days in a row to remind him that I miss my iPod. He never called me back, and I figured I'd just leave it be. Rod, knowing that I must have my music on demand, bought me a new iPod, rightly named Nwanda v. 2.0. Life was back to normal. Rather, life was back to as normal as I could get it.
Anyway, Rod got a call a week-ish ago. It was Mr. GM from the auto body shop. He informed Rod that they set up their own sting operation after my phone call and apparently someone else's call regarding things missing from their car. The result of the sting was... A THIEF! Rod went over to the shop and described my iPod, but alas, the iPod they had there was white. Nwanda was black. Mr. GM said that since the guy stealing stuff had admitted to taking things out of several cars, he was going to graciously reimburse Rod the cost for Nwanda v. 2.0. Sweetness!

Something I've been thinking about lately (in relation to Nwanda v. 2.0) is how I'm so connected to music. There's something to be said about being able to listen to a song and have it affect you in some way or another. I believe that songs connect you to your past. For example, "Plush," by Stone Temple Pilots, makes me think back to Prom 1994. I still laugh my head off just thinking about it. Liz McKinley must have REALLY thought I was lame after that. Oh, wherever you are, Liz, I'm sorry. RJ, wherever you are, I hope you remember that song and laugh. Probably not. I have a strange, innate ability to remember things of unimportantance. It sucks. I'd like to remember math equations and the chemical makeup of fructose. Alas, I can't. I remember going to 7-Eleven with Heather and hiding a tape under a bush because we didn't want people to think we were stealing it. Anyway, back to the connected to music bit. There are certain songs that are guaranteed to make me in a good mood. One of them came on today at work, and I just had this shot of happiness go straight to my brain. It was awesome. The song? "Don't You Worry 'bout a Thing," by Stevie Wonder. That's my guaranteed happy song. I love both versions I have; the other version is a cover by Incognito. There are the the pumped songs, the ones that get me moving even faster. The Fratellis does that to me. There are the songs that are guaranteed to put me to sleep. (I actually have two albums dedicated exclusively to going to sleep. I thought it'd be good background music for studying. Needless to say, that lasted about 10 minutes. Big mistake. Cue the Narada.) Then there are the songs that I think, "Man, I love this song so, so, so much, and I'm not going to cry this time." 30 seconds later, I'm forcing the lump in my throat to disappear and I'm looking for an excuse to seek privacy. One of those such songs also came on at work. Oh man, I was out on the floor, too. Luckily it was a slow time. No one was really around. I won't mention the name of the song, nor the artist, as I want to avoid scrutiny from Lara. But this song.... oh, how I love it so. The emotions, the melody, the orchestra, the voice... Yeah, Mrs. I-hate-showing-my-soft-side wipes a tear or ten when this song comes on. And this behavior isn't exclusive to this one song, either. I don't know what it is, but there are several others that have the same effect. I recently acquired a CD with one of the "other" songs, and I can say that it quickly became one of my top played on Nwanda v. 2.0 very quickly. I'll admit that song title - it's "The Land of Might Have Been," as performed by Jeremy Northam (My Mr. Knightley) on the Gosford Park soundtrack. Love, love love love love.

I need to go do more math.