Victory! (OR: Ray 1, Technology...a lot)

I finally did it. I got music onto the memory card for my cell phone. Finally, Butch is a music machine. (Yes, my phone's name is Butch. And yes, I name my devices. And yes, I am straight.)

You see, this is, sadly, more an accomplishment for me than I'd care to admit. I like to consider myself at least technically savvy. I'm no expert, but usually I can work my way through a pile of cables with relative ease.

Then this little chip entered my life. It was Elise's birthday present to me, as temporary replacement for my iPod (which I lost. Because I am awesome.). It seemed simple enough: plug in my phone with the USB cable, or put the music on the chip, then put it in my phone, hit the play button, and jam. I was gonna enjoy the flight to Nashville with tuneskis of my choosing, all thanks to my little phone.

Ray's face, meet wall.

I finally got the phone connected to the computer after trying about four thousand times or so. I get all the best music I had into a neat-o little playlist, and load it on...

One song? What the fuck, phone? Most things with a play button play...more than one thing. Fuck that.

So I load the little chip into the computer...and I still can't get it synchronized with my phone. I put it straight onto the damned chip! I'm swearing every sentence now, Butch. Is that what you wanted?

I manage to load one song on: "Technologic" by Daft Punk. Ever since the end of April, I've managed to inadvertently press the play button on the front of the phone and start that little voice...stares ensued.

So I finally decide...what the hell, let's see what we can do. I've not even been able to connect it previously, and things went the same tonight. Then...I hold in place.

CONNECT

You mean...the only way I can ensure that my $150 phone will connect the way it's supposed to is to hold the cord in place? What the fuck, technology?

Now I have some dandy songs on the playlist. And what's the first line one hears when the music comes on?

"If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for ya son/I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one."

Smoov, Ray. Smoov.