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What was I saying last night about breaking the bonds of consumerism and not buying stuff I don't need? And did I mention the iPod Touch?

My iPod's dying. I'm gonna need a new one. Sigh.

I've been noticing that the thing has been acting up lately, not syncing or charging every time when I connect it to the computer or power adapter. I thought it might be the cable, but then the thing went dead for an extended period, not resetting or powering up or showing any activity at all. Then it came back, even allowing a reset, but wouldn't charge or sync, and the diagnostic screen didn't show any problems. Then it did sync. Then it didn't. Then it did.

That is not the behavior of a healthy iPod.

But it's several years old now, a 4G Photo version long since supplanted by video versions and now the Touch. I could go with the Classic (160 GB!), but the WiFi with browser and larger screen, and the promise of third party apps through February's SDK, have me ready to head out and buy the Touch instead. (I love the Nano, even the square "fat" version, but 8 GB isn't nearly enough for me) Still, 16 GB is... chintzy. I understand why they did that -- battery life, cost of flash memory -- but they could have included an SD card slot. But they're Apple, and they know better than you do what you need. (Yes, I considered the Archos, the Creative Zen, and the Sansa. All nice products, but... no, not quite there)

So I'm just about ready to drop a bundle on a replacement iPod. I don't want to. I like not spending the money. But I need to have a working iPod, the alternatives -- using my phone as a player, getting a cheaper brand -- aren't adequate for my needs, and... damn. No fair. And I was doing so well with my new frugality, too.

(If you're using the iPod Touch, let me know how you like it. My mind can still be changed)

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It's too late for a full post, but for the zero people who care, I finally got my busted iPod to charge, but not before I bought an iPod Touch. (And a Nano for Fran, for good measure. "A Nano For Fran" sounds like a heartwarming Christmas special on CBS circa 1956) The early verdict: Yeah, I think I like this one. Video looks great, WiFi and Safari work beatutifully, and there's enough room for everything (for now).

Something closer to normal posting tomorrow.

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This is Head-Rolling week in radio, especially at Clear Channel. They did the budgets recently, and this is the result -- the biggest local talker in one market, the local morning sports show in another, a longtime morning market fixture elsewhere, and midday and evening hosts galore. Gotta make budget, see, because the private equity firms who backed the bosses need to see some black ink on the bottom line.

It doesn't matter, of course, that getting rid, of, say, a local morning sports show in a major market -- with competition in the format -- means that when listeners come to hear talk about the Lions on Monday morning after a big game, they'll get a generic syndicated sports show from L.A. instead. It doesn't matter that this will be a long-term problem for the station. All that matters is getting the salaries off the books next quarter.

Wasn't taking the company private supposed to end this? Wasn't it supposed to remove the pressures of Wall Street expectations? Guess not.

Maybe you can get away with voicetracking or automation on music stations. Most music stations are devoid of personality these days anyway, except for morning drive. (No, "wacky" imaging does not obviate the need for actual humans, but it IS cheaper) But if you're in a major market doing sports and your morning show isn't talking about local stuff every day, or you've just dumped your highest-rated talk host because he made the largest salary and dropping him would bring you under budget, you're not playing to win. You're not even playing to survive. You're playing to save money. That's radio in 2007. The people who led the industry here should be ashamed. You know they aren't. And you know why I'm glad I'm not programming right now, although if I could just have a decent budget for local shows and a decent signal to put it on, it might be interesting. It's not like the competition is going to fight back much. Not if it costs money, that is.

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And now, a 27 year delayed reaction:

I bought Game 6 of the 1980 World Series as a two buck iPod download. I thought it would be fun to occasionally sync it and watch, and indeed it is. After watching the pre-game (with Bryant Gumbel hosting and an interview with Pete Rose) and the first few innings, I did what anyone else would do: I skipped to the top of the ninth, the one in which Tug McGraw loaded the bases and then got that fateful two-man pop-up and finally struck Willie Wilson out. I remembered the plays, and I remembered Joe Garagiola saying "the crowd will tell the story," then going silent as the place went nuts. But I didn't remember what Garagiola said earlier in the inning. He said "there are no winners, there are no losers. They're both winners, they're both losers."

What?

I guess he was trying to laud the Royals, but... what? No losers?

Yes, Joe Garagiola was one of the first aboard the Self-Esteem Express. Royals, you're not losers, even though, technically, since the Phillies won four games and you won only two, you, um, well, played a great series. But you're not losers.

Actually, yeah, you ARE losers. There IS a winner and there IS a loser. That's how it works. That's not to say that the losers are bad people or played a bad game, but one of the beautiful things about sports is that, in most cases (let's not recall pre-overtime, pre-shootout, pre-resolution hockey or soccer or football), there are no ties. Someone wins, someone loses. It doesn't get much more simple than that. You go out there, you do your best, someone comes out on top, and you hope it's you.

The education system in America has, of course, been going down that no-losers path for years. Yes, it sucked to be on Little League and PAL teams that never won. Yes, it sucked to finish in the back of the pack in gym class track races -- I could never quite deal with hurdles until I discovered that you could just push them down with your feet and they'd bounce back up after you went past -- and it sucks to root for teams that don't have a prayer of winning. But that's life. The adult world IS a competition. If you think there are no winners and no losers, you get eaten alive. I wonder how many kids get the wrong message that way.

I doubt they do, not in the long run. Kids still do play competitive sports, and they do try to win at video games (kids aren't the ones wandering aimlessly around Second Life). Still, the earlier you learn that life is going to be unfair and that you don't want to lose, the better off you're going to be when the real world intrudes on your childhood idyll.

But it was nevertheless a shock to hear that nobody lost the 1980 World Series. It's funny how the mind plays tricks sometimes. I could have sworn that... OK, let me go back and check the video....

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This week's All Access newsletter takes a couple of quick shots at industry observers and talent firings on the way out the door:

There's not gonna be a Letter next week because I'm going to be out of the office. And there won't be one the following week because I'll be eating turkey and watching football. So part of me is insisting that if I want to get my shots in about all the stuff that's on my mind, I better do it this week or I'll have to save it until December. On the other hand, I'm tired and last week's Letter was roughly the size of the Large Type Edition of "War and Peace," so part of me wants to make this short and be done with it.

So I'll be here and working until late next week, off for just a few days, back for a few, off for the holiday, and back again, in case you want to enter that in your Outlook calendar or notify the authorities. Have a great Thanksgiving.

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How do you celebrate the anniversary of a very bad day? We did it by revisiting the scene of some of the subsequent crimes and toasting the fact that we're still here.

It was exactly two years ago today that Fran and I sat in an office at a medical facility and received the bad news of her breast cancer diagnosis, and what I remember most clearly about that day was that Fran was unbelievably poised and well adjusted and matter-of-fact. No time for tears from her; she went about getting the names of doctors and discussing her various options. As for me, I nearly passed out on the spot. I spent the rest of the appointment with my head between my knees trying to remember to breathe.

And then we spent a year involving operations and chemotherapy and radiation, and then recovery, and now, here we are, two years and still here. We spent a lot of that first year commuting up to UCLA for treatment, and we were back in Westwood tonight, the first time up there in a long time that didn't involve Fran being tested and attacked with scalpels. It was nice to be there without a medical crisis in play. It was so unlike our previous visits that I was able to find a parking space directly in front of the restaurant on a Friday night in Westwood Village, which never ever happens. And we topped it all off with Diddy Riese ice cream sandwiches (chocolate chip ice cream on freshly baked M&M cookies). If you'd asked me two years ago today what the ideal day would be two years hence, I'd have said something a lot like today -- a lovely evening spent with Fran, no worries, no doctors, just Fran and me enjoying the pleasures of being alive and well.

The ice cream sandwiches were just a bonus.

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A postscript to yesterday: Today was a mundane Saturday. I did some work. I ran. Fran and I did some shopping. I got a haircut. I watched some TV. That's pretty much it.

You have no idea how good, after everything we've been through, this feels.

One of those annoying things about cancer, I've written before, is how it robs you of the everyday stuff. Cancer is in every conversation, in everything you do. But as time moves forward, you get more days like this when you just do normal stuff and talk about normal things and, well, those aren't boring days, they're good days. Great days, actually.

We did nothing special today. And nothing is much more special than that.

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