Author: Cornish, Rick

My Iphone
Some of us live our entire lives looking for that one elusive something that will finally make us whole. We spend our existence trudging up hill after lonely hill to see if the grass is greener on the other side. No matter what personal accomplishments, what accumulation of stuff, no matter how many deep and satisfying relationships, there is always that hunger.

My hunger ended yesterday. I took possession of an Iphone. Even before clicking it on, it’s sleek black and silver and pewter body stirred something inside me. But of course it was the sudden, heart-quickening appearance of the touch screen, with its neatly ordered, rainbow colored array of icons that told me my life-long quest for inner peace had finally ended.

As I studied the display, each icon promised its own world of challenge and joy and exploration. The I-Tunes icon, where I will store my huge collection of bluegrass recordings ; the web browser icon that will at long last allow me to take to bed with me each night; the bright yellow daisy on pastel blue background icon that signifies an endless collection of photographs and, better yet, a high powered, high resolution camera with which to capture an endless array of snapshots of friends, colleagues and loved ones in compromising situations. The GPS icon with two stylized highways dissecting one another that reassures me that my new partner in life ALWAYS knows exactly where we are and how we get to where we’d like to be. But far and away the icon that holds the greatest promise is the one labeled simply ‘Notes’, for it is here where, by Sunday at the latest, I will have entered the entire contents of the “Never Quite Complete Bluegrass Songbook”, one thousand and eight bluegrass, old time and gospel songs, complete with chords and discography references. Velcro has already been carefully administered to the back of the Iphone thus enabling the device to firmly bond onto the back of my fiddle. As a good friend says, life is good.

My wife, who’s been reading over my shoulder, asks if I’m not just a little worried about giving the bluegrass community a glimpse into the inner-workings of my mind and soul. ‘You feel okay about letting several thousand people know just how shallow and materialistic you really are,’ she asks? I tell her you’ll all find out sooner or later, so what’s the difference.

I’m sorry, but I have to go now. So much to do today, so many settings to set, photos to snap, songs to upload. Oh, and did I mention you can even make phone calls with this thing?
Posted:  4/4/2008

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