Lazarus

Arggh! My Nano!

Sooooo....yeah. A few months ago Charles surprised me with a wee gift. Very wee. Tiny, in fact. And blue. It was a Nano, Apple's weeny, teensy music and video player. For me - walking to school, working out, listening to history books while I surf - it was perfect.

Until last week. Here's the mental conversation:

Me: "Don't forget to take that Nano out of your pocket before you wash those shorts!"

Me: "Yep! Will do."

Five minutes later:

Me: "Egads! Must hike with Lawrence tomorrow morning - need clean shorts."

[congratulates self on quickly running a load of laundry.]

[pulls laundry out of washer. Notes, in transfer to dryer, a telltale white cord. Oh noes.]

Me: "You are truly stupid."

Me: "Yep!"

But Charles swooped to the rescue yet again. "Submerge it in rice for 72 hours."

??

Yes. So I sank it into our large tub of basmati (long-grain is the way to go, don't you think?) and waited. When the Nano emerged, it seemed completely dead. No little apple screen, no response to plugging it in. Time for a little, tiny funeral.

I researched new Ipods tonight. The shuffle? Not enough functionality. The new Nano? Apparently not very well engineered (here's a hint: brand new 6th gen sells for 134. The one I had? 5th Generation? $250! That should be a sign to someone.). The Touch? Way more than I wanted, but perhaps I should just do it. I was hovering over the button when Charles called out from downstairs.

Like Lazarus, my Nano rose from its grave to play Rihanna again. And the Man of LaMancha soundtrack, too. Yea, even the Simon Schama has returned to the land of the living. Verily, a miracle in rice.

I'm so, so happy. There will be no need to mock me.