Aye Laggie, I Missed Ya Luv

Hopefully by now you know that I am an incurable music junkie. A few thousand CDs, a bunch of vinyl and thousands of digital downloads on an external drive are part of my collection. I don’t get out to as much live music as I would like, but I think I will start doing some more of that soon. I miss the sweaty rooms and the notes crashing off low ceilings into my ears and then simultaneously through to my heart and mind. Every once in a while, it even travels through to my limbs, which leads me to do this strange thing that can occasionally be called dancing (it can also be called spastic expression, but it’s just easier to call it dancing…I mean, it’s easier to ask someone to dance rather than if they would like to express spastically with you, although the latter might have some charm in the right setting and maybe…ah hell, I’m way off track here).

So yeah, I love music. Almost every kind. My iPod is schizo, glamming it up one minute and pretending it is a thug the next. But that’s where my love is, with my iPod. Start the promo now Apple, because I have a serious love affair with my iPod, or Laggie as I have named her. Her full name is LagPod, because there is some serious lag time from when I press the wheel to when something actually happens on the iPod itself. I can press skip and maybe 20 seconds later, Laggie will skip to the next track. It’s like she has her own mind, like I am suggesting that maybe we should skip to the next track, but only if she thinks it is a good idea. Sometimes when I click on an album, Laggie just starts skipping tracks, deciding not to start with the first one, letting me know that track 4 is a better place to start…and when I try to put my foot down and skip back to the first track, Laggie turns her back and feeds me attitude, taking me back to the main function screen, sternly suggesting that maybe I would like to watch a movie or something. Aye, Laggie…y’got me hooked babe.

Last week, a friend of mine wanted to borrow Laggie to check out some of the things I had on there, including Lost in Translation (which I have probably watched over 50 times now…no joke, it’s becoming a problem).  Now you have to understand, for me to lend Laggie out to somebody, I have to completely trust them.  I don’t have all of my music in iTunes, instead trusting Laggie and her ability to hold far too much data at once.  With her split personality, you would think that I would transfer some of this music, but realistically, I have all of it on an external drive anyway…I just haven’t told Laggie that.  It would hurt her feelings and I would probably end up not being able to listen to anything as she skipped from track to track, subtly telling me what I can do with myself.  So I lent Laggie to my friend and we were apart for about four days.  Those could be the four loneliest days of my life.  Laggie and I had never been apart so long and while I have dropped her once or twice (I think that may have led to her current mental state, but until there is some direct proof, I’m not admitting it), the love between us is a mutual bond…something stronger that what is being carried across other airwaves.  Laggie has been there with me when I was down, excited, confused…to put it shortly, she has been an awesome friend.  When I didn’t know what to listen to in certain situations, Laggie would come through on random and fire out some Pulp or Bet.e and Stef or Mos Def even Van Halen.  Laggie has that remarkable ability to come up with a winner every time.

Those four days were chaotic.  There were times when I was washing dishes, cleaning up around the house and sitting next to possibly one of the most annoying people in the world on the GO train where I needed Laggie and she was nowhere to be found.  She was out pleasing somebody else.  Laggie, I thought I knew ya babe!  Oh Laggieeeeeeeee!  “Wake up Laggie I think I got something to say to you…”  What happened is that I found myself singing more, occasionally belting out a tune that just needed to be belted out and other times (such as on the train or subway), I found that perfect level of volume that would let me either hum or sing loudly enough for me to hear, but not loud enough to surpass the noise made by the tracks or the squeaky and somewhat suspect wheels that were carrying me to my destination. 

The strange thing is that I couldn’t ask for Laggie back.  I know how much joy she brings to me on a daily basis, how she can get me motivated, how she can turn Walking Down Yonge Street On a Rainy Day to Walking Down Yonge Street On a Rainy Day Feeling Like Fred Astaire Whilst Listening to Paul Anka Singing Nirvana in Swing Fashion and Praying For a Light Standard to Come Along That Would Let Me Spin and Possibly Hook in Some Foxy Young Thing With My Umbrella.  I wanted my friend to enjoy that same sort of feeling and to revel in its beauty, to see and feel the power that Laggie has.  You see, the first thing that people say when they get to interact with Laggie is, “Dude, what the hell’s wrong with your iPod?”, to which I say, “Nothing, she just has some attitude…give her some space and she’ll treat you well.”  Eventually they get used to her and if they don’t, then they weren’t good enough for her anyway.  Laggie’s no slut, she wants real companionship. 

I finally got my Laggie back and honest to God (is there really a God?  Discuss.  Drink.  Discuss some more) I kissed her silvery back and pressed her sleek black face against my cheek.  She replied by suddenly turning on, lighting up and playing a random tune.  Aye Laggie, I missed ya luv.  Good to have you back.  Now do you want to kick it back to high school and find Anna Is  a Speed Freak for me or do you want to just choose something to your liking?  It’s up to you.

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