Love Affair

I’m having this MAD LOVE AFFAIR at the moment. I wish I could tell you that it was with George Clooney (my philosophy - if you’re going to dream, AIM HIGH), but this one promises to endure.

I’m talking about an iPod. Yes, that same little gizmo which even my grandchildren have had for YEARS. In fact, they give the impression that they’ve had theirs surgically implanted somewhere, because they NEVER seem to be without them. I’m beginning to understand why.

We have the MOST MARVELLOUS Christmases IMAGINABLE, and my poor lovely husband runs himself MENTALLY RAGGED trying to think of something WONDERFUL to give me ( and GOD, I’m picky!). And so of course he turns to our daughters. And when I talk about them, I’m talking about CUTTING EDGE here, you understand.

So there I was, confronted with an iPod – which I KNEW I didn’t want, didn’t need, would NEVER use, DIDN’T THEY UNDERSTAND THAT????? I have an absolutely SPLENDID music system in my studio. And it only takes me 8 minutes to walk there. But hey, I smiled BRILLIANTLY, said THANK YOU DAAARLING (I wasn’t fooling anybody) and stashed it away.

And then, and THEN……….a little tossed-off, by-the-way question from my husband some time later ( “do you ever use your iPod?”) , TOTALLY without censure, struck HUGE GUILT into my heart. God, I was STRICKEN with remorse. I hauled out all the instructions and actually sat down and READ THEM. This is practically against the law in our family – we MUCH prefer to work it out ourselves, and ALWAYS with DISASTROUS results.

But not this time. Astoundingly enough - you have to realize who you’re dealing with here - I managed to IMPORT MUSIC into it. MORTIFYING to discover how easy it was. Even MORE mortifying to discover what a lot of pleasure the result was, and just how much I had been missing. I’m SUCH an idiot sometimes.

So now I go up to my studio every morning listening to my iPod. With HUGE pleasure, and I mean HUGE. Bopping my way up and down Kensington Church Street, having the BEST TIME.

BUT – there are peripheral dangers. I’m TERRIBLY WORRIED that it’s turning me into a NICE PERSON. Oh Lord, WHAT A NIGHTMARE! I went to the Post Office yesterday and joined the longest queue imaginable. I hate queues with a PASSION, and long ones send me COMPLETELY MAD. And do you know what? I actually stood there SMILING HAPPILY at everyone while I listened to a lot of GLORIOUS music. People were starting to edge away nervously. No, no, I’m SERIOUS.

I’m DEFINITELY going to have to work on that.