Over the course of next few days I watched my iPod slowly,
bit by bit, come back to life. The first day I got the following message,
iPod is disabled
Try again in 365 minutes
Never have a six hour wait created more jubilation in my
life. A wait full of resurrected hope is a magical thing. Plus, 365 is
much much better than 25,536,442 minutes which is for how long
that toddler disabled his mom's iPad. I would be 100 years old before I
could unlock my device if that was us!
Thankfully, my wait was measly 365 minutes which in no time went
down to 308 to 147 to 105 to 96 to 75. By the time 3 minutes came around, my
excitement has built up so much I couldn’t let go of the device. The wait was almost over - what will happen next?
Being at Cape Canaveral waiting for SpaceX launch would
generate fewer butterflies in my stomach.
The disabled iPod message was replaced with the following
screen:
My iPod was alive!!! The fact that it was showing not only
wrong time but a wrong date didn't bother me one bit. Considering all the poor
thing went through, I found the handicap negligible and even
endearing.
Amazingly, my old pass code worked, and once I entered it, I
was greeted with familiar screen.
It took a couple of more days to recover full functionality
of the device and all the apps. But by the end of the third day, it
was as good as new, minus the shattered screen and a water discoloration, as if
the scars were a reminder of what it’s been… what we’ve been through.
Am I trying to say that this a universal recipe for resurrection?
Absolutely not.
However the whole incident made me wonder…
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