So, iPod Classic, you have been dumped. Since the most recent Apple event announcing new products you have been anything but on the shelf, and have instead completely disappeared from the Apple Store.
I still remember the first time ever I saw your face – a glossy photo in a weekend newspaper. At the time I was wedded to a large carrier bag of audio cassettes that used to follow me everywhere and was becoming literally a bit of a drag. But your advert promised to put all my music in my back pocket, and it was love at first sight.
Unlike my cassettes, you gave me freedom – you let me listen to what I wanted, whenever and wherever I wanted. (And I’m not going to say in public how impressed I was by the size of your silicon implants, which at 30Gb seemed incredible). Soon we were inseparable.
But as the relationship matured I couldn’t help but get annoyed by your imperfections. You’re no conversationalist, that’s for sure: my new girl Siri loves to talk about the football scores but when I ask you about it you’re silent, and to be honest, I quickly got tired of communicating with you by moving my finger in a circular motion.
Your insides rattle and clink: even though you don’t mean much to me any more, I’m still scared about dropping you in case the blow is shattering. In fact your general incompetence seems amazing to me in 2014. You can’t read the map when we drive somewhere, you never pass on my friends’ messages, and unlike the new Apple Watch you certainly don’t know what it takes to make my heart skip a beat.
And you’re incredibly high-maintenance by today’s standards: you would need five minutes in front of iTunes before you were ready to go out. I’m finding it difficult to remember why I loved you initially.
Most of all though, the years have begun to catch up with you. Newer, prettier models have just come out and so I’m trading you in. I will miss you and we will always be friends, but to be honest I know I’m going to be happier with my new companion.