Pod People

My first introduction to Pod People was not a horror flick. Just after high school, I met someone who had a “music chair” (or something like that). It looked like a giant egg sitting upright. You nestled yourself into a bean-bag-like seat inside and the world went away. Hidden behind black cloth lining the inside were two speakers at just about ear level. The volume was really quite low, but once you were inside, you almost couldn’t hear anything from the outside. I thought it would be neat to have one, but it was probably pretty expensive.

Fast forward 35 years and everyone has the equivalent without the bulk. Just stick those two little earbuds in and listen to your iPod. It’s a lot cheaper. Whatever you spent ($150 to $300 or so) is a lot less than what that egg cost in Dark Ages dollars.

You don’t even have to stay home to use it. It goes wherever you do. It won’t get softer under a bridge or turn to static in an underground parking garage. No matter how hard you bump into the guy walking too slowly in front of you, there’s a bubble surrounding you. You are impervious to all attempts at conversation.

I am a rock
I am an island
I have my blog
And my iPod to protect me
I am shielded in my armor

Paul Simon would be rolling over in his grave if he were dead. Instead, I wonder if he has had some of the same thoughts these 40 plus years later.

As Japan has became more crowded, the culture of the people there has been to be very formal with each other. It is their separation in a world with little physical separation (or at least that’s what the sociologists say). Here in America, we have simply retreated into imaginary pods. We walk and drive around looking at everything, but manage to stay separate from it all. The latest way to maintain that separation is the iPod.

The name says it all. It’s an I-Pod, or might be better described as “my-Pod.” Either way, it is separation from your fellow man.

Of course if they have their own iPod, they won’t care.