"Dead, all dead."

A few hours ago, I turned on my iPod Nano, plugged in the computer speakers, and clicked to the song "Don't Play the Drumz" by Ten In The Swear Jar. The screen froze.

I plugged it into the computer, which jolted it back into consciousness. The "Do Not Disconnect" signal blinked for a few moments, then stopped. I unplugged the slim device. The red, crossed-out circle and the message are stationary on the window.

This summer, after getting a Nano for free from work, I trashed my portable CD player, spent countless hours burning CDs to my computer—even typing in the song and album titles—and then banished them to a dusty white cabinet. Then I loaded my iPod Nano and shoved the little, glossy plastic sliver down my throat.

Less than six months later, this artifact is no longer convenient, efficient or novel. It's dead.

UPDATE: It's alive!