A Brush With the Video iPod

October 25th, 2005

Last night, I found myself at the Apple Store in Soho buying software, of all things. (I needed a disk utility program because a corrupted FireWire drive is keeping my iTunes library hostage.)

I swam through the mob checking out the new video iPods on display and worked my way up to the front, like a 15-year-old fan at a Slayer concert. Lo and behold, there it was: a flat little television housed in a black case. (It comes in the traditional iPod white, too.)

It struck me: Apple’s new ‘it’ boy is an obvious descendant of an ancient device the Sony tribe used to call a “Watchman,” that laughable contraption targeted solely at nearsighted goofs who prefer to watch TV at the ballpark.

Chuckling at my brilliant powers of association, I slipped on the $300 headphones that the Apple Store provided.

Since the little guy barely gets a moment’s peace, his battery was pretty low — the battery cell icon in the upper right hand corner of the color screen contained a thin slice of red. (Video capability eats through the unit’s rechargeable power.) However, the brave iPod still had enough juice to pump out a music video from Sri Lankan singer MIA’s hit “Galang” (pictured) and the first few moments of a Pixar film that I think was Ice Age.

I spend about three minutes fiddling with the thing before I felt — literally — someone breathing down my neck. It was a downtown Manhattanite, a loft-dweller to be certain, and a female companion.

“That’s the one,” he said, clear enough for me to hear through the Sennheiser cans. “The black one. It’s sexy. It’s so sexy.”

Loft Man and his friend edged closer to me. As much as I wanted to replicate the feeling of a crowded Friday-night L train here in the Apple Store, I was having difficulty continuing my casual tour of the iPod.

At that point, he said — I swear to God — he couldn’t wait to get it home.

I about-faced and turned to face my attackers. In my best librarian voice I said, curtly: “Excuse me. I have some software to buy,” and marched up to the register with my copy of Disk Warrior clutched to my chest.

I’m not sure I can even afford another iPod — it would be the fourth in my household, technically — but now I’m not so sure I want one. This new, boundary-smashing piece of technology now feels a little, well, soiled.

And now, this: The San Francisco Chronicle refers to the video iPod as “sexy, delicious” in Mark Morford’s scheme to find the real way to make money off Apple’s new baby.