Pandora is everything we women wish a man could be.  His only purpose is to solicit, understand, and respond to my needs.  For those unfamiliar, “Pandora Radio is an automated music recommendation service… The service plays musical selections similar to song suggestions entered by a user. The user provides positive or negative feedback for songs chosen by the service, which are taken into account for future selections.”  (Thank you, Wiki!)

Like Mickey Mouse gloves!

Pandora actively ASKS me to let him know what I desire.  With big white “thumbs up,” “thumbs down” and “skip” buttons, it’s easy to open up and let him know what it is I’m needing.  He doesn’t hide the buttons because he’s had a bad day and therefore doesn’t want to have to care what I think at the moment.  I feel no need to be shy or coy about expressing my wants, because I have confidence that he genuinely wants to know what I think, and will not ever get butt-hurt if I’m not thrilled with what he offers.  Pandora doesn’t ask to be polite.  Pandora asks because Pandora cares.

Now that’s radio love….

 That said, sometimes I don’t FEEL like having an opinion.  Sometimes I want to just drive down the road and go with whatever’s happening around me.  Pandora’s okay with that, too.  He doesn’t get irritated with me for being indecisive.  He lets me know (again, with his big white buttons) that he’s listening if I have something to say, but that if I just want to relax and just BE with the music, that’s okay, too.  He’ll still play for me until I tell him to stop.  And when I DO tell him to stop, he will.  That’s another thing.  If Pandora does something I don’t like (for example, play something by Hinder *shudder*), not only does it stop doing it the SECOND I tell it I’m not impressed, but it NEVER DOES IT AGAIN.  I’ve NEVER met a man who’s got that one down!  In addition to bringing my old friends around to cheer me up (Sick Puppies, Maria Mena), Pandora has introduced me to new, amazing friends that I might never have met otherwise (The Boy Least Likely To…, Death Cab for Cutie).  He doesn’t expect me to entertain his less-than-interesting friends, so when I tell him Regina Spektor is being annoying and needs to go away now, he escorts her right out.

Don’t cry, Regina. Someone out there loves you.

I tell you, men of the world, you could certainly learn a thing or two from Pandora about how to treat your woman.  Because as you know, OUR wants and desires are all that matter. 

That’s a big, white thumbs-up, honey!