Me Me Me Me Me Me Me

It's all about Me.

I'm shoving my iPod into people's faces as if it were pictures of a new-born. I feel switched-on, baby. It's funny, because I had no real desire to own one, since I already had several portable music devices that served me just fine.

But this...this is something else. The lesson, as always, is the dear and patient wife is an awesome gift-giver. Also, you are officially a Lesser Human if you don't have an iPod.

More often than not, I explicitly state what I want on any gift-giving occassions. It removes what I like to call "The Larry Factor," so named after a guy I know who gets shitty gifts year after year (his name is not really Larry, though he'll come if called that. It's Roman. He'll also answer to "Omar"). I always look forward to Larry's post-Event breakdown, those tales of gifts given for the second straight Christmas, all the nice sweaters that especially come in handy when one lives in W. Texas and, on special occassions--like his wedding--the cool dish towel. That's right, dish towel. Singular.

So the dear and patient wife usually knows exactly what I want. But I left her on her own last month. When she asked what I wanted, I had nothing in mind. Obviously, she came through BIG TIME with the iPod. But she also slipped in the DVD set of Chappelle's Show Season 2 for Father's Day. She's on a roll.

Football Segue/Interlude

The Mrs. also gave me my Steven Gerrard-numbered Liverpool jersey a few occassions back. I was all set to burn it last night. Good thing I didn't. The whole affair still leaves a bad taste. Not sure I belive he "always wanted to stay." I think the immediate and cacophanous backlash gave him pause. He would have become Liverpool's very own Malcolm Glazer. I'm glad he's back, though.

End Football Segue/Interlude

So, I've loaded about 450 songs into the iPod so far. I've barely removed it from my ears. I'm sticking with shuffle at this point, no time or inclination to disrupt the frenzy with carefully crafted playlists. So I really can't be like all you cool kids and make a handy list of "What's on my iPod?" I did, however, experience this eclectic little six song set on the way in to work this mornin':

Beck--Girl
Lamb of God--Omerta
Journey--Faithfully
Drive By Truckers--My Sweet Annette
Mark Lanegan--Driving Death Valley Blues
Kreator--The Pestilence

Almost makes a man want to weep.

I'm still unlikely to use it when playing live poker. I'm much more comfortable with my drunk/social table image. Plus I need to hear all the stupid things people say.

I also got something from my Dad for Father's/Birth Day. I'm not even sure I can explain why it's hilarious. And sweet. And exceptionally dorky all at the same time.

It's a t-shirt with a very cool photo of AJ and I superimposed on the front. Very thoughtful. But I could never wear it in public. I think only Bob has the self-confidence to pull that one off. So what to do with a t-shirt you can't wear? Here's what I came up with:

Have the dear and patient wife take a picture of me wearing the shirt, holding AJ in the same pose as originally pictured and making my Dad a shirt with THAT picture on it. We could keep doing it back and forth for the rest of time, eventually ending up with something like when you open your medicine cabinet mirror toward the wall mirror and an endless procession of You is projected at the junction of the two reflections. I won't wear a shirt with just one Me on it, but Infinite Me? Yer damn right.

Look for it in stores just in time for the holiday season.