""And it seems to me you lived your life / Like a candle in the wind / Never knowing who to cling to / When the rain set in.""
Thank you Elton John for summarizing my feelings so accurately and succinctly. I miss her so.
No, not Anna Nicole Smith, that grieving will only be done during ""Kevin Time."" Instead, I'm referring to Tammy the Headphones, who I had to put down.
She seemed so full of life, but then just recently the left earphone started cutting in and out, thoroughly annoying me. Sure, she still had 50 percent of her ability, but I knew eventually the disease would spread, taking away the right ear, and it might even go on to attack my other accessories.
A life like this is no life for headphones.
With tears in my eyes, I clicked on Simon & Garfunkel's ""The Sounds of Silence"" as I mournfully loaded up my shotgun. Tammy probably just assumed we were going for a normal, mournful hobo hunt and actually pepped up at the idea of being outside, murdering. Oh no Tammy, it was not to be.
Sadly, she did not know that this time, she'd be the hobo.
I will admit, the explosion that occured when shell met plastic was quite satisfying and cool. It was nothing like ""Old Yeller,"" which was my feared outcome, but it still left me feeling hollow inside.
I didn't have headphones and, from past experience, times like these are especially tough on a music lover.
In the past eight years, I've gone through just as many headphones. From wrap-arounds to earbuds to ridiculously oversized DJ-style headphones.
What's got me so downtrodden right now is I know just how difficult it's going to be to replace her. I'm not saying this because I'm emotionally attached to them, because that'd just be silly! Who could get attached to a tool that costs $20?
Instead, I know I'll face challenges because the headphones aren't going to want to come home with me. The Kevorkian-esque reputation I've built up probably has them absolutely terrified.
When I stroll into the store to choose my next victim, I know the entire section will cringe and probably tell all sorts of lies to make them appear unappealing to me. A pair of wrap-arounds might claim its a pair of earbuds, which I absolutely despise. Others will simply hide behind the conveniently placed dictaphones, never to be seen by my evil eye.
There will probably even be some that will tell me they will absolutely murder me... you can never trust machines of this sort.
I know I'll eventually choose the one that appears to lie the least. We will have a glorious year-long courtship filled with music and joy and music (they're headphones, there's little else they can do). But then after all this fun, I know the new pair will go soft on me and eventually need to be put down as well, like so many Anna Nicoles beforehand.
So, tonight all you music lovers, give your headphones a pat on the head or a kiss on the lips, and realize your time with them is fleeting and let them know that if they ever die on you, they're easily replaceable.
Only then will you have the relationship I've always wanted, but never had.
