Whenever Jason Berkowitz listens to "You're the Best" on his iPod, he recalls that 1984 summer vacation in Fort Lauderdale and seeing "The Karate Kid" for the first time. ("I thought it was the best song ever . I still kinda do and I don't care what people say," says the 29-year-old.) Whenever he listens to Zero 7's song "Destiny," which he first heard at London's Heathrow Airport four years ago, he thinks about meeting his wife, Bethany.
The thing about the iPod is, it's what you bring to it.
"If a song represents a memory in your head, then you listen to your life's memories -- faster than a mixed CD, definitely faster than a mixed tape -- as you listen to your iPod," says the affable, fast-talking Berkowitz, a project manager for a software company, as he sits in his downtown Washington office.
"It becomes an extension of you," he says. "It's like a window to your soul."
Or the lack thereof.
Never outdone by the Post, the Onion already stuck a sharp pin into this piece of puffery two long years ago: "I have my very own iPod--in my mind. I hear those little things carry up to a month's worth of music. Well, so does my mind. I can call up any song I've ever heard, any time I want. And I never have to load software or charge batteries. There are no firewire cords or docks to mess with. I just put my hands behind my head, lean back, and select a tune from the extensive music-library folder inside my brain."
