A few nights back, I dropped my iPod onto the locker room floor. It knocked the click-wheel out of place and, while I could still navigate it to play, I could no longer get it to pause or turn off. The bottom of the wheel was indented a bit and wouldn't respond to my touch. Thankfully, I could always just fast-forward to the end of a podcast or song and then let it eventually go to sleep mode, but it was still an unpleasant reminder that damage had been done.
Going to the Apple store to talk to a "Genius" was out of the question for me as broke as I have been lately, so I resigned myself to deal with it as it was, flawed but functional.
Fast-forward to tonight: I left work and turned on the iPod to listen to the rest of Wanker Girl's latest podcast, but the power kept coming and going. 'Perfect,' I thought. 'No more music for me. No more podcasts. The iPod is almost dead.' Instinctively, I gave my cherished machine a hard whack on its back. I don't know if I thought smacking it would fix it or if I was just mad and acted accordingly.
Regardless, it's all better now. I'm a genius and I fixed it. Thanks to my frustrated behavior, the click-wheel popped back in place and the iPod works just like new. Granted, this doesn't necessarily mean that the slightest bump won't break it again, but I'm choosing not to think about that right now. Tom Waits sings "New Coat Of Paint," and I'm happy again.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to kick my car.