My daughter's gift

My daughter gave me a wonderful gift. Wonderful ‘cos it changed my life style completely .I have become a fitness freak now. From an indolent creature ever on the lookout for an excuse to avoid the prescribed one hour walk daily, I have become a walkaholic. I now wait for the evenings to come to go to the walkers park which I avoided like plague till I got this wonderful gift. I jump out of the bed at six in the morning ignoring all those aches and pains which I earlier used to seize upon to peg my excuses on., and dash off to the park to walk for an hour and half!
Guessed what the gift is?
Ipod.
To tell you the truth, hi-tech gadgets never fascinated me. In fact they scare me, make me feel inadequate, and sadden me too. I think they symbolize the death of a beautifully romantic manually operated life. Past has always fascinated me - and future? It frightens me. I hate those futuristic movies though I watch them through the corner of my eyes. I know I sound stupid but there are times I wish aeroplanes still remained impossible dreams. That’s me. Guess I had become an anachronism long before I was born !
But ipod! I love it. I can go to the end of the world with that tiny machine. With the earphone in my ears, I can walk long after I can walk no more .
Just imagine, you can carry music with you in the least cumbersome way. Clip it on to your dress, put the earphones in place and you carve out a private space for yourself in a very very public space like a park .And what a space that is!!! It spans time and space while you are go round and round and round on the beaten path with other health freaks who also go round and round and round. But there is a gulf of difference between them and me. While they keep looking at their watches or counting their rounds, I want to go on for ever! How can I not when Stevie Wonders follows his I just called with Part time Lover, or when Lenon provides the most melodious solutions to man’s misery with his Imagine? Nash’s I can see clearly now the rain takes me hurtling across time to my undergraduate days when I struggled to stay myself from swaying to that terrific reggae beat for fear of scandalizing my gentle mom with her extreme orthodox Syrian Catholic views about women. Oh! Then there are ever so many numbers which make me wish I could stretch those moments to eternity!
My worst fear(and my husband’s too)is that I would break out into some wild dance when those unnamed Latino numbers which my daughter has fed into the Ipod start filling my space with that irresistible beat.
I can go on and on and on -- - but am sure I have bored you sufficiently- So shall wind up with ‘Thank God (and my daughter) for the Ipod.’