The way we’re mixed: Krissy is an iPodder, whereas every media player I’ve owned has been something other than an iPod: Three Creative players and the current Archos 605. This is because I don’t like paying a premium to be trapped in the Apple ecosystem as a general principle, and also because I have a Rhapsody subscription and have lots of rented music off the the service, which the iPods won’t play because Steve Jobs is a butthead. Whereas Krissy doesn’t care about any of that, she just wants something small that will play music.
Thus, her shiny new iPod Nano, which is tiny tiny tiny — see it here next to my Archos, which while only slightly larger than a first generation iPod looks monstrously obese next to the Nano, which reminds me of nothing more than an overgrown Chicklet. It’s pretty, but personally I would be genuinely terrified of losing it. I can’t find my keys half the time, you know, and this thing is more expensive than my keys. The fact is the current race for the tiniest form factor possible for electronics doesn’t really do much for me. I’m too forgetful to benefit from it. The Archos is not exactly huge, but it’s large enough in size and weight that I don’t fear losing it when I set it down.
Our respective players also exhibit our philosophies regarding what we want out of our player. When Krissy’s first generation iPod Mini finally croaked, I asked her if she wanted to replace it with an iPod Touch, and she looked at me like I was wearing a suit made of mustard. Why would I want that? She said. I just want to play music while I exercise. She doesn’t give a damn about wifi connectivity, playing movies or games, or any of that crap. The current Nano is actually probably over-featured for her in this respect, because it plays movies and games and shows photos, and none of those features is ever likely to be used by her.
Naturally, I think this is madness. The Archos has wifi, an 800×480 touchscreen, the ability to play movies and other media, and (this is why I got this particular model) 160GB of memory. It’s got my entire music collection and a couple dozen movies on it and it’s not even close to being full. I think that rocks. I mention this to Krissy and she gives me a pleasant but blank look that says I know you are communicating something you are enthusiastic about to me, but I really couldn’t care less about it; nevertheless I love you. It’s a tolerant look, actually. She knows the geek moment will pass and we can get back to our lives.
The point is our media players do tell you a little about us. Anything important? No; but still. You take your clues where you find them.