Ludd·ite noun \ˈlə-ˌdīt\
This post transmogrified before I even got started. It was GOING to be about music and marriage. About how I have x number of DAYS of music on my computer and still have only 3 songs in common with my husband’s collection.
But, iTunes in its infernal wisdom, decided to update my player and I can’t find crap.
I LIKED the status quo. I could find stuff. I could drag songs, kicking and screaming, over to any playlist I wanted. (I can too play the Commodores in Zumba. Instructor’s choice.)
Now, I have to petition the gods just to be able to FIND my playlists. And when I manage to employ the right combination of sage smoke and blood sacrifice to get to the playlist, the songs have disappeared.
It violates the new laws of physics for everything to be on the same page and easy to find. I blame the new math.
I’m not against all newfangled inventions. Indoor plumbing is one of my favorites. Refrigeration and microwave bacon trays coming in a close second.
Compared to the first 4200 baud modem I started with, wireless internet is nothing short of magic.
I just wish there was a way to keep less important stuff, like my music organizer, from changing so frequently. In my quest to keep pace with learning all the new stuff, I’m afraid I’m going to re-write part of my brain’s important files.
Like my anniversary. Or how old my kids are (cause that changes every dang year, too). Or where I’m supposed to be tomorrow.
While I have no desire to impede progress, it would be nice to be the official definer of progress– to say what is/is not acceptable.
Hence, my new slogan: “I’m the definer. And, I define what is progress.”