On dependency and iPods

I just conducted what may be my last interview, and I can already tell that dependency is going to be a central theme. Some students are very concerned about becoming dependent on drugs in order to succeed in college. This last student interview was one of them.

He was a 4th-year student, never had his own prescription for Adderall, and he doesn't have ADD or anything ostensibly wrong with him (except for a family history of heart conditions—one factor in his self-imposed moderation of prescription stimulants). But he did take Adderall during every finals since the middle of his freshman year. And it helped quite a bit. Studying was more fun for him, he could do more, faster, it even livened up the boring stuff. Now he's trying to study for the MCAT without Adderall, and he's clearly a bit rattled about the prospect. Maybe he's studied for so long, so successfully with meds, that it's unsettling to think about studying without them.

That's an example of dependence, and in this exact context, it's one thing I expected to find at the outset. However, if you really think about what dependence is in a more holistic sense, it's far more common. It can also be rituals, routines, preparation, habits—ultimately it’s about comfort, and doing the things that we think are going to make us at our best.

After thinking about it more, for me, this summer, it's also been about my iPod shuffle.

Being from Palo Alto, I've always used Macs and generally loved Apple products. I go through iPods like Post-Its, and my favorite, by far, is the shuffle. Not the one that looked like a stick of gum (first-gen), nor the one that looks like a smaller stick of gum and tells you what song you’re listening to (third-gen … I mean, c’mon, of course I know what song is playing and who it’s by, I put it there). The second-generation shuffle is the best: it's tiny, durable, it doesn’t call out your songs like a robot DJ, it clips to anything, and holds enough songs and has enough battery life to last through a 22 hour hike of Mt. Whitney (yeah, that shit happened). It works well for workouts, running, and in a pinch, I'd grab it over my iPod touch (the one that's basically an iPhone without the phone) just to stroll around campus without worrying about breaking something so comparatively expensive and fragile.

I don’t workout without tunes. I can only take so much Ke$ha and Black Eyed Peas. My own mix makes running and working out tolerable. I’m dependent on tunes at the gym and track. Swimming has historically been trickier for me.

Just like that student hated doing problem sets (but felt compelled to do them anyway), I hate swimming. Yes, I played water polo, but A: I was a goalie, and B: it's easier when you've got teammates and/or coach pushing you. Otherwise, swimming kind of sucks. Water polo is to swimming, as basketball or soccer are to running—with a ball, strategy, goals, teammates and other variables, those sports are (to me anyway) more stimulating. Running by itself can be incredibly boring. But not if I have a soundtrack ...

Sometime in college, and with the advent of ever-smaller digital audio devices (remember the "Rio" mp3 player?), running actually became fun as long as I had Daft Punk, The Pharcyde, et al. in a small, shock-proof device. Waterproof audio was much more primitive then, but I experimented briefly with a Speedo waterproof FM radio that attached to my goggle strap. It was a fail. Swimming to KROQ commercials was almost as bad as a Nickelback block. The goal was to make swimming more tolerable, and breaststroking to NPR didn't cut it either.

Later, about a couple years ago, I found a waterproof case for my beloved 2nd-gen iPod shuffle (H2O Audio, if curious). At last, could this finally be the thing that would make swimming fun? Even if it was a $60 plastic gimmick or psychological token—even if the underwater audio quality was crappy and it made me less hydrodynamic—even if it looked dorky (it did), it was all worth it just to have Radiohead, or, pun-intended, The Strokes.

I swam for about 3 years, bringing the waterproof shuffle case everywhere I go. Sometimes on my way to the pool, I’ll realize I forgot the shuffle, or the case, and actually turn my car around to go back and get one or the other (or both). Sure, I could swim without them, and sure, I have, but it's not as fun, and honestly, I probably didn't swim as long or as hard without it.

Flash forward to this summer: my roommates and I are moving out of our place. Like running and swimming, moving can physically suck, punctuated by periods of boredom. Preloaded with the "workout mix" I went for the shuffle for aforementioned lightness, durability, and because moving is indeed a workout. Just before we needed to return our washer and dryer, the three of us scrambled to do one last load of laundry and I didn't think twice about throwing in my shorts which—sadly—contained my beloved iPod shuffle in its cargo pocket. Ironic that in years of swim use, my shuffle would die from water damage in a heavy cycle.

The 2nd-gen shuffle had since been discontinued, and waterproof cases hadn't yet been developed for the 3rd generation model (and likely won't, seeing as Apple moved track and volume controls from the device to the earphone cable—thus making it harder and more expensive 3rd-party companies to develop iPod earphones/accessories). Since I already had the case—and preferred the older model anyway—I hit up Amazon and eBay to await its replacement.

While I waited however, I noticed an interesting thing about my behavior: I didn't swim as much. Sure I'd go to the pool or beach to lay out or whatever, but since losing my iPod shuffle about a month ago, I think about running or the gym instead of the pool, just because it's become so important to me to have my music while I do it. The internal dialogue goes something like "well, I could swim, but it wouldn't be as fun—I should wait for the new shuffle for that, let's hoop."

It's not that I can't swim without it, but I've become so used to swimming with tunes, it's hard to motivate myself to do laps without a soundtrack. Maybe that's sad. Maybe if I never got used to it in the first place I wouldn't be so spoiled. Maybe I could ween myself off of it, or hum Postal Service tracks in my head instead.

But I choose not to. And I chose not to. I didn’t swim until my new used shuffle came in the mail. And isn’t that dependence?

Think about this more. Do you take supplements or multivitamins because you need to or because it’s routing and makes you feel better? What about wearing your favorite outfit before going out? I once read that Wade Boggs of the Boston Red Sox ate a whole chicken before each game (will investigate this one). Do Notre Dame football players have to slap that sign “Play Like a Champion Today?” Would they be any more likely to lose if that sign went missing?

Sometimes this seems like a fine line between rituals, compulsiveness, and an acknowledged disorder like OCD. I think I’ve made this point, and will revisit it somehow in this dissertation.

In the meanwhile, I need a break and could really go for a trip to the gym. I know my iPod is here somewhere …

Working on: Moving home to Palo Alto.