posturing
Yesterday, I started using my iPod again after a long period of disuse. Since my commute to school is roughly half as long as my prior commute to the old job, I felt like musical accompaniment by way of magical digital Graham Cracker was unnecessary. How wrong I was. Just as before, my life has improved immeasurably, especially during those walks home from the gym (see New Year’s Resolution 1).
Bringing Graham (for I have named him thus) back into my active life was akin to discovering a new addition to the Old Testament, and not just for the revelatory experience. Wrapped in a silicone protector and left to sit on the bottom shelf of my nightstand for five months, the iPod had accumulated what can only fairly be called a residue. Flecked with dust, disturbingly sticky to the touch, and battery completely drained, I worried that my neglect had done permanent damage to the beautiful device. After a quick rubdown with some generic screen cleaner (the iPod, not me) the thing shimmered like new and no longer had the texture of a dried Jolly Rancher.
My excavation complete, it came time to inaugurate a new era. I wrenched the iPod’s USB plug from the back of my PC (thank God I’ve been working out) and connected it to the MacBook Pro. I’m sure you can all appreciate the symbology (spot the Willem Defoe reference!) of my severing this final umbilicus to the PC world. Reformatting the iPod for Mac use also had the side bonus of wiping its memory clean, exhorting me to upload new music. I’ve decided to start small, and right now the selection is a little heavy on the Bang Camaro, but then, why shouldn’t it be? Why listen to five people rock when twenty are so much better?
But really, I doubt you want to hear about me dusting off my iPod (which, again, is probably the most worthwhile purchase I, or anyone, has ever made). What’s really interesting here is the effect that traveling music has had on my posture. It goes like this. My funny walk increases the odds that I’m going to catch my foot on something, lose my balance, and fall teeth-first onto the uneven urban pavement. As a form of risk prevention, I have always had a habit of keeping my eyes fixed on the ground just a few feet in front of me, to watch out for anything that might send me on a trip to the ground (ice patches, trash, large pavement cracks, curbs, small children). You don’t have to be a doctor to imagine that this requires a subtle bend at the neck. What you might not realize is that this minuscule alteration in posture ripples down your entire body. The neck bends down, sure, but also, the shoulders slump, the back hunches, the center of gravity pitches forward, and the hamstrings tense. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but it probably also makes the hunched pedestrian look depressed, distracted, and unattractive. So, in an effort to be cautious, the elderly and anyone else with reason to be careful on a sidewalk ruin their posture and paradoxically make the act of walking more difficult.
It’s been hard to break myself of this habit, but the iPod is helping. I’m surprised by how much concentration it takes to keep my eyes vaguely on the horizon and my head up. Music helps because endlessly repeating, Head up. Head up. Head up. gets tired really fast. The music fills most of my inner monologue, leaving just enough room for the instructions about maintaining my posture. Would it be going too far to say that the iPod is adding years to my life? Nah.
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