The Adnostic

My sister and I usually get our father's hand me down gadgets. My Palm Pilot, once his. My sister's cell phone, it has "Dad" written all over it. Our printers, good old Dad. Our computers in college, courtesy of our father's never ending quest for the latest technology. But recently, there has been a break in the pattern of giving and receiving. My Dad upgraded to the Video iPod and gave his old device of audio goodness to my mother.

Wah? My mother?!!! The woman who I had to painfully walk through, step by step, her online shopping experience. My source of life who has 300 unread messages in her inbox, 99.9% of which is junk mail that she voluntarily signed up for. The woman who can barely use her cell phone. My Mom, whom I love dearly, who called me in a fit of desperation while I was AT WORK asking me how to buy replacement china on eBay, gets an iPod. This is so not fair.

What makes it worse is that Mom does not have much use for it. She would much rather damage her brain with right wing conservative talk radio, but there have been times that she has made use of her little white rectangle of joy. These times have almost always been an effort to connect with me through popular music or to simply swoon. As for myself, I just call it torture. This is when she will listen to Il Divo on a continuous loop.

Apparently I am not the only fruit of someone's loins who has to deal with this national phenomenon known as the "mature" boy band. Some progeny have been so unlucky as to have to escort their mothers to an actual Il Divo concert.

Me? I am not nearly so unlucky. I am merely burdened with a mild sense of misfortune because my mother has asked that I get her the new Il Divo CD for her birthday.

What's worse? One Il Divo CD on a continuous loop, or two. There must be some kind of human rights violation here.