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January 28, 2004
Angels of death
My poor sister Bonnie. As a child, she always wanted to be a veterinarian. However, she kills or maims almost any animal she touches. It's not really her fault, it's some kind of curse. She dropped Capri on her head, twice. She slammed the door on Bobby's head, other animals run away or get run over. Not quite as spectacular as Candace's dog in the thresher story, but animals still cower in the corners of cages at the pet store whenever Bonnie comes around. Her dog Chloe is alive after quite a few years, but I think the dog's peeing problem is a direct result of the knowledge that death lurks wherever Bonnie lurks.
I'm the same way with headphones. Since I was a child, I have had the remarkable ability to keep things working way beyond their normal service life. Stereos, cars, computers, boots, attempts at heterosexuality, you name it. I just can't keep headphones alive.
My cd player I took to central Asia? Headphones snapped on the flight to Uzbekistan, leaving a slight mark across the top of my head. CD player finally died three years later.
First set of earbuds for the iPod? Broken within a few weeks. Stepped on them while drinking with Simon one night. They made a pathetic crunch under my boots, little neodymium magnets suddenly making not-so-clear music.
Second set? Broken within six hours of purchase. Wires were caught by my Bear's ecstatic leaping before her evening walk, yanked out of my ears, and cracked on the floor. They lasted for some time, but would begin shocking my ear after about five weeks.
Third set? Stepped on them while getting out of bed.
Fourth set? Old roommate Brian from Dallas gave me a pair with extra long wires. Still work, but connecting wire is exposed, both have to be carefully wedged in my ears to avoid the broken plastic bits, and the spiffy plastic bits slide up and down the right wire. Plus the speaker on the right isn't really working, as I dropped it into my coffee at work.
I walked past the Circuit City in Union Square last weekend, and I could swear I heard their little boxes cringing backwards on the racks.
Posted by G at January 28, 2004 11:37 AM
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Comments
Misfortune of this level can only be a gypsy curse. You can overcome your unfriendly association with headphones only by practicing a few weeks with a pair of earmuffs. Buy a cheap pair and wear them everywhere. Once you can go three or four weeks without breaking or losing the earmuffs, you will know the curse has been broken. Do not attempt to obtain headphones until you know you are no longer hexed. I hope this helps.
Posted by: hot toddy at January 28, 2004 06:01 PM
RE the last post. Hope the earmuff therapy works its magic before you get to Hawaii 'cause 1) either you won't hear people hitting on you at the beach or 2) #1 won't be an issue cause you'll have the whole beach to yourself.
Have you considered a subscription service?
Posted by: Out There at January 28, 2004 07:34 PM
and let's not forget my poor pair of studio headphones that were affected by your proximity. dog ate them. for those of you who don't remember dog...he was the headphone pooping, chocolate donut scavenging, ferret (armadillo?).
Posted by: brian nesbitt at January 29, 2004 12:10 AM