Monday, June 27, 2005
In Memoriam: iRosalita
Dearly beloved,
We are all gathered today to mourn the short but vibrant life of iRosalita, iPod Mini (pink). While her time with us was but two months and five days, she lived it to the fullest with 903 songs and 3.3 GB, including iTunes spanning entire catalogs from Bruce Springsteen, the Beach Boys, Beulah and the Beastie Boys. She also boasted critical selections from Hall & Oates, Huey Lewis and the News, Curtis Mayfield and the Reverend Al Green.
At approximately 2pm on Saturday, June 25, at the corner of Irving Park, Lincoln and Damen, iRosalita started to shuffle forward through her tracks without stopping, like she was experiencing cardiac arrhythmia. She went from Alicia Keys to Alice Cooper like a day in the life of Rivers Cuomo. I tried iCPR through resetting, but she never awoke from her coma... all she could manage was an iPod icon on her screen with tears streaming down its face. I rushed her to the Apple Store at Old Orchard, where a Mac Genius pronounced her dead at 3.05pm. He said she was "unresurrectable."
iRosie, as she was know to her iPals, was named for "Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)" by Springsteen. But unlike her namesake, she was never "stuck in the mud somewhere in the swamps of Jersey." She travelled each day with me up and down the brown L from Southport to Merchandise Mart during the week. We went to Waikiki together and basked in the Hawaiian sun for hours. She even took a tumble with me when I tripped on the sidewalk running down Irving Park.
She was feisty, surviving through a shipping snafu that took her from Shanghai, China to Anchorage, Alaska to Chicago, Illinois, and back, before retracing the same route back to Chicago. She was cute and sleek and wore the finest encasements an Apple Store giftcard could buy. She was a fantastic running buddy and mighty fine desk-top companion at the office. Although I received a brand new iPod Mini (pink) on the spot to replace her (warranty), iRosie will always be my iFirst. She rose to the occasion -- I never thought I could rip more than 100 iTunes, but she proved me wrong nine times over.
Goodbye, iRosie. You added some music to my day. Say hi to Johnny C when you see him, OK?
We are all gathered today to mourn the short but vibrant life of iRosalita, iPod Mini (pink). While her time with us was but two months and five days, she lived it to the fullest with 903 songs and 3.3 GB, including iTunes spanning entire catalogs from Bruce Springsteen, the Beach Boys, Beulah and the Beastie Boys. She also boasted critical selections from Hall & Oates, Huey Lewis and the News, Curtis Mayfield and the Reverend Al Green.
At approximately 2pm on Saturday, June 25, at the corner of Irving Park, Lincoln and Damen, iRosalita started to shuffle forward through her tracks without stopping, like she was experiencing cardiac arrhythmia. She went from Alicia Keys to Alice Cooper like a day in the life of Rivers Cuomo. I tried iCPR through resetting, but she never awoke from her coma... all she could manage was an iPod icon on her screen with tears streaming down its face. I rushed her to the Apple Store at Old Orchard, where a Mac Genius pronounced her dead at 3.05pm. He said she was "unresurrectable."
iRosie, as she was know to her iPals, was named for "Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)" by Springsteen. But unlike her namesake, she was never "stuck in the mud somewhere in the swamps of Jersey." She travelled each day with me up and down the brown L from Southport to Merchandise Mart during the week. We went to Waikiki together and basked in the Hawaiian sun for hours. She even took a tumble with me when I tripped on the sidewalk running down Irving Park.
She was feisty, surviving through a shipping snafu that took her from Shanghai, China to Anchorage, Alaska to Chicago, Illinois, and back, before retracing the same route back to Chicago. She was cute and sleek and wore the finest encasements an Apple Store giftcard could buy. She was a fantastic running buddy and mighty fine desk-top companion at the office. Although I received a brand new iPod Mini (pink) on the spot to replace her (warranty), iRosie will always be my iFirst. She rose to the occasion -- I never thought I could rip more than 100 iTunes, but she proved me wrong nine times over.
Goodbye, iRosie. You added some music to my day. Say hi to Johnny C when you see him, OK?
