Dear Earbuds That Came Included With My iPod

I found another pair. It's over. We had a good run, you and I--nearly 11 months together, but now the course is finished.

I think we both knew this was coming. Ever since you first came into my life my friends had been telling me that there were better buds out there, but I put my faith in you and discounted my friends as being too susceptible to marketing and hype. And maybe I was right to a point--it did work alright for a while, after all. I still remember fondly that time at the airport in Budapest when my connection was late and you were there to keep me company late into the night.

But lately you haven't been delivering the performance I expect: you've let yourself go, and your physical decline has gotten so bad that you can barely last five minutes before falling right out my ears in a pitiful tangle.

And let's be honest: you were never quite as strong as I needed you to be. I had always thought the reason I could hardly hear the spectral strings humming in the background of The Unanswered Question even on highest volume was simply because you weren't designed to block out background noise. I even thought the problem might be with me--but after hundreds of dollars spent on Q-tips and visits to the otolaryngologist, I know the truth: the problem is with you.

You see, I've found a new pair named Philips, and I've now been shown all that was missing with you. In just 24 hours , I have been born anew in the rich auditory pleasure Philips continuously and superiorly delivers. There simply is no comparison--where I used to look at you with a casual familiarity there is now only the disdain of broken trust. How dare you ensnare me with your greyish-white bonds from reaching blissful aural heights!

Oh, and did I mention that Philips provides me with three different sized-rubber caps in order to ensure my listening pleasure? What a novel idea, and how stark in contrast to your cavalier "one size fits all" approach.

I suppose I can't be too harsh, however, despite the fact that you're a phonic phony. Perhaps I should have known better. Perhaps I was deaf to the warnings of friends.

Nonetheless I'm leaving, and I never want to hear from you again.

Regards,

Jeff

P.S. We'll always have Budapest.

P.P.S. The iPod likes Philips better, too.