My experience destroying iPods and phones is just short of legendary (example 1, example 2, example 3, example 4, and example 5). Just when I thought I had kicked the habit of dropping them into toilets, off balconies, and in front of buses, I managed to one-up myself.
In May, New York Magazine listed some of the items in the waters around New York, and I’ll be letting them know that they can add a red iPod nano (Gen. 2) to the list.
I was out for a run on the East River Esplanade, and as I often do, I was holding my iPod in my hand. For some reason, I believe to scratch an itch, I tried to transfer the iPod between hands, and was less than successful. It fell, broke free from the headphones, and bounced over the edge. By the time I had stopped my forward momentum (no easy task) and made it to the edge, it was no where to be seen. It had disappeared into the murky depths of the East River, never to be seen again.
I’m generally interested in the type of work that packaging engineers do. I enjoy unboxing a product and taking in how they were able to take a product and all it’s parts, fit it into a box that must be fit precisely into larger boxes, which must fit precisely into shipping containers, and all the while successfully navigate all the hazards that can occur during shipping.
Last night, it was with this wonder that I opened up a new George Foreman Grill that was purchased to replace my old one, which I had broken. Upon opening the box, I saw something that left me curious; and as the hours have ticked away since then, and I have pondered the reasons behind it, it has left me perplexed, confounded, and flummoxed.