I-Pod Really is the 'Soundtrack to Your Life.'

For far too long my life was void of meaningful sound. Then, like dawn of a newborn day, the light that is I-pod shone into my life. No longer was I burdened with a mountain of shiny discs to carry around that belong in cases that break far too easily when pressed under the weight of a shoe merely trying to find its comfortable spot in a car. No longer did 'skips' ruin the melody of a favorite song. No, life was full.

Then rain killed my I-Pod. And for a time, life was again, silent and dark. After a few months of mourning its loss (and saving up for a better version) we adopted a second I-Pod. Even better than the first, I no longer had to pick and choose which songs to add to it's library. There was enough memory to hold anyone's entire collection of music- save for my friend Kevin, who, seriously, has waaaaay too much music.

Life was great. I was able to listen while at work, pouring over moldy old deed records for countless hours while filling my ears with the wailings of Bono, or Switchfoot, the poetic musings of Crowder or Webb, the loud beats of POD, and occasionally, some country song Kristin put on there.

Then, like the clap of thunder that is gone too quickly- my earphones broke. Sure I could still listen in the car, or in the speaker at home, but work was dreary and dead without my soundtrack. For far too long, I transcribed in silence, left only to wandering thoughts, wherein I was doing something else. Anything else. And the darkness grew.

For Christmas, my mother-in-law got me earphones. Not the painful factory kind, but the cushy, pillow-inside-my-ear kind. Finally, I could walk from my office to records, a song of inspiration putting a spring in my step again (not like in Saturday Night Fever, mind you. I own no polyester jumpsuit nor any rhythym.) Even the Overture from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves has its place when I am looking over yellowed, handwritten pages- it is almost like being in the movie- minus the arrows and fire, and poor English Dialect uttered by Kevin Costner.

So, if your life is filled with a quiet desperation, go find an I-Pod. Fill it with the soundtrack of your life. Play it loud.

And spring for the fancy earbuds.