iTunes, The Devil, and Me

Have I ever mentioned that I am an iTunes addict?

I don’t need to go to a mall to do my bipolar shopping. All I need is my computer and an evening when there’s nothing on TV, and I become totally immersed in buying music. I have long wanted to collect all of the songs I’ve loved since childhood, and I’m SO over store-bought CDs—who wants to pay twenty-five bucks when all you want is the title track? But thanks to iTunes, I’ve built up my library to the point where I can call up almost any good memory I choose, just by putting my earphones in and selecting a song.

We’ve come a long way since the days when I’d throw my old transistor radio in my bike basket and ride into town, cruising down Main Street with an ice-cold Coke in my hand and “Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies floating through the summer air. That was about as cool as it ever got for a seventh-grader. But I’d have been in hog heaven if they’d had iPods when I was growing up….that, and perpetually impoverished.

Most of the thousands of songs I’ve bought over the years cost only 99 cents, which sounds like a bargain when you buy only a few at a time; but when you add it all up, it’s a big chunk of cash! It doesn’t help that my musical tastes are so eclectic; I enjoy almost everything but rap and that awful racket they call death metal. (My older son used to love to torture me by blasting that shit from his room. Now he’s half-deaf, and the old lady here still has her hearing intact. HA.)

In fact, my iTunes library contains world music, classical, jazz, country, classic rock, Christian contemporary and traditional hymns, even mariachi and ranchera (regional Mexican music). So as you can imagine, there’s a wide variety of music to buy…and I’ve spent thousands of dollars already…..and my old 16-gig isn’t even full yet.

However, what I’ve gathered is far more than a collection of tunes…..what this little rectangular box holds is my own history set to music. There isn’t a single song that I don’t associate with some event or time of my life. Sometimes I’ll burn a CD with a theme of some sort, like “Songs for Depression” that contains music I play when I really need to cry (you haven’t lived till you’ve sat in your bathroom at 2 AM sobbing and listening to Evanescence’s “My Immortal” over and over again).

Ironically—as much as I adore music—if there is a grain of talent in my body, I have yet to discover it. I’ve never learned to play an instrument, unless you consider plinking out Chopsticks to be playing the piano. And my singing voice…..well, let me put it this way: every time I sing at Mass, I remind God that He gave me this voice, even if it does sound like the Devil screeching! It’s so awful that a cat I used to have would howl whenever I sang in the shower. And that’s a shame, because I love to “make a joyful noise unto the Lord”.

Oh well, as long as I can find all my favorites old and new on iTunes, I’ll content myself with owning some of the greatest music ever played… Chopin and the Beatles, Placido Domingo and Josh Groban, Loretta Lynn and Blake Shelton. Oh, yeah, and don’t forget the Archies!

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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