Mindful Digressions

Brain Shrinkage

I arrived at the airport early for my 10 a.m. flight because I had a conference call at 8:30 and I wanted to be through security and situated where I could talk and access the internet on my computer.  I have this speedy USB 4G modem that I use for internet access on the road.  It’s a relatively small device that plugs into my laptop’s USB port and provides a reasonably fast internet connection, often faster, even, than what is available through the free WiFi that some airports offer.

I found a table at a McDonald’s near the gate.  I plugged in and powered up my laptop.  While it was booting up, I got myself a delicious, nutritious McDonald’s breakfast burrito meal.  While sipping coffee and munching on the burrito, I opened up Facebook and saw that my son had posted an article published by one of his law school professors, William Ian Miller.  Miller was lamenting about being 65 and noting that his brain wasn’t quite as agile as it once was.  He even mentioned something doctors refer to as “brain shrinkage.”

As a man, I am familiar with shrinkage of another type that we males occasionally suffer, particularly after spending some time swimming in cold water.  But Miller was referring to brain shrinkage that results from getting older, not colder.  Who knew?

But I digress.  Being 65 years old myself, I have noticed occasions lately when my brain can’t quite find the right word even though I know and have used that particular word many times in past conversations.

Naturally, it would have been the perfect word to use in the context of the discussion.  Unfortunately, unable to conjur up that perfect word, my brain has to pause and search for an alternative word, which seems to take an unbearably long time, thus interrupting the flow and diminshing the impact of my sentence.

I have noticed, too, that I am periodically unable to summon up to consciousness a particularly relevant fact that I, in previous situations, always had at my disposal.  Recalling such a fact would have driven home my point, cogently bolstering my position, and sealing the deal.

Yes, it’s a little frustrating and even scary when you experience these “brain farts,” and Professor Miller very articulately expressed some of the anxiety I have felt recently about my apparent age-related brain shrinkage.

Panic attack

What happened next, however, really freaked me out.  After my conference call at the airport McDonald's ended, I needed to get ready to board my flight to San Francisco, which was scheduled to depart in about half an hour.  I closed my web browser and the application that enables the connection between my USB modem and the internet.  I then removed the small device from the USB port, shut down my laptop, unplugged it from the outlet located on the wall, and started to put things back into my computer case.

That’s when I saw, sitting on the table next to the laptop, the small, black, zippered case used to store the USB modem.  I got seriously concerned, though, when I couldn’t find the device itself.  I moved the laptop to another table.  I pushed aside the wireless mouse.  No modem.  Had I put the modem into my laptop case without first zippering it into its own small case?  I searched through the compartment where I usually store it.  It wasn’t there.

Panic began to set in.  I started rifling through my computer bag like a madman.  I looked into every pouch, emptied every section.  I searched the bag inch-by-inch.  No modem.  I broke into a cold sweat.  I looked on the floor around the table, thinking I might have accidentally knocked it off.  I found an abundance of crumbs, a few discarded ketchup containers, and a crinkled-up napkin.  No modem.

“This is not possible,” I thought.  No way could the modem just disappear.  Did some creepy petty thief sneak up to my table and grab the modem when I wasn’t looking?  Of course not; I was never not looking.  So where was the goddam modem?

In anger and frustration, I was about to pound my fists onto the table when I looked down at my left hand and noticed that my fingers were already clenched into a tight fist.  I slowly unclenched, and as my hand opened up like a day lily exposed to the warmth of the morning sun, I saw, secure in my palm, the “missing” modem.

I breathed a sigh of relief and then looked around to see if any other early morning McDonald’s patrons had witnessed my strange behavior.  No one seemed at all interested in or fazed by my panic attack.  I placed the modem into its insulated zipper case, and then secured it into its proper compartment in my computer bag.

All packed up, I grabbed my roll-a-board and headed to the gate, just in time to hear the voice over the PA cheerily announcing that the departure of my San Francisco flight would be delayed.  Of course.

By that time I had calmed down and resigned myself to spending yet more time sitting around waiting for my flight to depart.  Reflecting on this strange and disconcerting adventure, I consoled myself with my newly acquired knowledge that this incident over the misplaced modem, which was never actually misplaced at all, was not my fault.

Brain shrinkage!

Apple polishing, part three

My last two posts on this blog were anti-Apple rants spurred by a dying batter in my old, first generation iPod Touch.  I went through about 48 hours of hell because Apple built a device that does not support swapping the battery.  You have to swap the entire device and then you have to jump through hoops to get it back to where it was.

After spending much of yesterday on the phone with Apple, my situation was still unresolved, and so I had to take my second 35 mile, one-way, drive to the nearest Apple store.

I was not a happy camper.

But this time there was a happy ending.  It didn’t seem at first that this night would end happily, though.  When my wife and I arrived at the Apple store and registered at the Genius Bar, we were advised that they were running “seriously” late.  Not a good start.  We were asked to take a seat and wait for one of the “geniuses” to assist us.

It actually didn’t take that long.  About five minutes after our scheduled appointment, an obnoxiously perky girl approached us and asked how she could help.  I explained what had transpired over the past two days.  She listened attentively and then said that she, too, didn’t know what an “error 5002” could be.  She took my new-old Touch and went into the secret, off-limits back room.

When she returned a few minutes later, she said, “Well, we’re not sure if it’s a software or a hardware problem.  At this point, we would swap out this iPod touch with another similar model, as the guy did for you the other night.  Then, this time, before you leave the store, I’d load the software and we’d synch it up for you. 

Well, that's a bit of an improvement, I thought.  "Unfortunately,” she continued, “we don’t have another first generation Touch in our inventory.”

Here we go, I thought.  Now they’re going to have to order one and that’s going to take who knows how long and then I’ll have to start the whole damn process all over again.  “So,” she said with that perky look pasted all over her face, “the best solution is to swap this out for a fourth generation iPod Touch.  What do you think of that?”

Being the skeptic that I am, I asked (with somewhat of an attitude), “Would I have to pay the difference between the eighty bucks I paid for this swap on Tuesday and the $300 retail price for the latest iPod Touch?”

“Oh no,” she said, perkily.  “Given the hassle you’ve had, we’re going to swap this out for the latest model and not charge you for the upgrade to the new device.”  She literally clapped her hands.  “You’ll love it.  It’s fast, slick, cool, and state-of-the-art.  How does that sound?”

Actually, it sounded familiar, as those were the exact words the “genius” from my trip two days earlier had used when he tried to persuade me to upgrade...and to pay $300 bucks to do so.  But it also sounded pretty good.

“And we’ll synch it up for you while you’re here in the store,” she continued, “just to make sure you don’t have to spend more time on the phone with the support guys or have to drive out here yet again.”

And so this story does have a happy ending.  It took a while, yes, but Apple...and the perky genius at the Apple store...came through.  Not only am I back to where I was before my old iPod’s battery failed, I now have a brand new, latest generation iPod Touch.

Now I’m a happy camper.

Rotten Apple, part two

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had to swap my old iPod Touch, the one my wife bought me for my birthday three years ago, for a new-old iPod Touch because the battery would no longer hold a charge.  And because you can’t simply remove the spent battery from an iPod and replace it with a new battery.

Serious design flaw!  Do you here me, Steve Jobs?

Despite what the “genius” at the Apple Genius Bar told me Tuesday afternoon, synching up my iTunes library and updating the software on the replacement iPod did not go well.  As a next step to get me back to where I was before this whole misadventure started, I spent about four hours on the phone yesterday with three different people from Apple support.

The first guy I spoke with, Mike, was able to walk me through synching up my new-old iPod Touch with my iTunes library.  That accomplished, I tried to synch up my apps that I had previously downloaded from the App store.  But I couldn’t do that because I apparently needed to have iOS 3.0 or higher to run those apps, and my new-old iPod has iOS 2.2.

My old-old Touch had the later version of the operating system installed because all of my apps ran fine.  In fact, in January 2010 I purchased (for $4.95) the 3.1.1 software update for my Touch.  I logged into the iTunes online store to see how to download the updated software, but couldn’t find anywhere to do it.  So once again, I called Apple support.

This time Dan answered and, after I explained the situation, he guided me to a button to “restore” my iPod Touch to its factory settings.  When I clicked on “Restore,” a message appeared advising that it would wipe clean all music and other files on my iPod.  “Hey Dan, I just synched this up a few hours ago.  Now you’re instructing me to wipe it all out?”

Dan nodded (or at least I envisioned him nodding) and said that I needed to update the software and then I’d have to run the synch process all over again.  He e-mailed a link that would lead me to the update page for iOS 3.1.1.  But when I tried to run it, it told me I’d have to pay for the software yet again.  Sorry, I don’t mean to sound cheap, but I’m not going to pay even five bucks a second time for something I paid for previously.

Dan advised me to forge ahead and, if I got charged again, he assured me that Apple would issue a credit.  So I proceeded, but kept getting an “Error 5002,” with instructions to try again later.  Dan didn’t understand why that error message appeared, so he got his supervisor, Brett, on the phone and we tried it yet again...several times.  Brett said he needed to talk to some of his techies and he would send me an e-mail with instructions.

True to his word, Brett sent me an e-mail saying that “a 5002 error is related to the credit card.  You may have to remove it and put it back in, or update it to your new card.”

That made sense to me, as it had been quite a while since I last updated my credit card information for my iTunes account.  I made the changes and then, just to be sure, I logged out of iTunes and rebooted my laptop.

I was sure that these actions would enable me to finally download the right software and synch up my songs and my apps.  Instead, I continued to get the 5002 error.  I e-mailed Brett and asked him to call me, which he eventually did.  He suggested using Internet Explorer to do the download, as I was using Firefox.  That didn’t work.  Finally, Brett, sounding nearly as frustrated (but not nearly as angry) as me, said, “You’re going to have to go back to the Apple Store.”

And so tonight I will be taking another 35 mile (one way) trek to the Apple store.  I wonder if Apple will reimbursement for my mileage.

(To be continued)

Rotten Apple, part one

It really shouldn’t be this hard.  Especially when dealing with products from Apple.  Apple devices are supposed to be so user-friendly and intuitive, so easy to use and well designed.  Steve Jobs brags about how Apple builds computers and devices for the human race...for the rest of us.  So why is it that you can’t simply replace an old battery in an iPod? 

You can’t, you know.  I found this out when I ended up at the Apple store yesterday because the battery in my iPod Touch, the one my wife got me for my birthday three years ago, would no longer hold a charge.  It dies after about 10 minutes of modest use.

With virtually any other battery-run device, when the battery dies, you simply remove the old battery and install a new one, right?  Of course.  But as I learned yesterday, that is not the case with Apple products.  And there’s no app for that, either.

I called Apple tech support on Monday and explained my battery dilemma.  The guy on the phone set up an appointment for me to see someone at the Genius Bar (I’m not joking, that’s what they call it...the “Genius Bar”) at the nearest Apple retail store, which, it happens, is about 32 miles from my house.

So I showed up the next day at the Apple store and met with one of the geniuses.  He took a look at my first generation iPod Touch (the latest models are fourth generation), looked at me with my thinning gray hair and gray beard, and did his best, which was not very good, to hide his snear.  I’m sure he was not pleased to have to deal with some old fart with a sorely outdated piece of technology.

I handed him the iPod and shared with him my sad battery tale.  He took my ancient iPod Touch into a back room and returned a few minutes later to advise me that my battery would not hold a charge. 

Dude, I told you that when I first got here.  Duh!  This is what they call a genius bar?  Seriously?

He presented me with two options.  First, I could upgrade to a new, state-of-the-art, fourth generation iPod Touch.  This would cost me around $300.  “But you will be amazed at how much faster, slicker, and cooler it is,” he said.  I asked him if this new, fast, slick, cool, state-of-the-art, fourth generation iPod Touch had a feature that would permit a user to change the battery when it dies. 

“No,” he said.

“What’s behind door number two?” I asked.

He explained that he could swap my battery-challenged iPod Touch for a brand new, first generation iPod touch, which would only cost me about $80.  That, to me, still seemed like a lot to pay for a battery, but it was better than $300, so I told him that was the option I wanted.  I could sense his disappointment and disapproval.

He once again disappeared behind a door and returned a minute later with a “new,” first generation iPod Touch.  I asked him if he could move all of my songs and apps from my old iPod to the replacement iPod.  “No, we can’t do that here,” he said, “but when you get home, open up iTunes on your computer, plug the new iPod into the computer using the USB port, and everything will be automatically synched up to your new device.”

Okay, I can handle that, I thought.  I gave him my credit card, paid 80 bucks for a battery wrapped in a “new” old iPod, and headed back home.  I booted up the old laptop on which I have iTunes loaded, opened up the software, plugged in my replacement iPod, and....

(To be continued)

Anthony Weiner Action Hero?

I’ve finally figured out why Anthony Weiner did what he did.  When he was a kid, Weiner was probably a big fan of G.I. Joe dolls (and maybe Barbie dolls?).  He simply wanted, like so many of us guys, to have an action figure doll of his own.  What better way to get an action figure doll in your own image, he must have decided, than to be a congressman who tweets pictures of his junk?

It worked!  An Anthony Weiner action figure is now available.  A Connecticut company, HeroBuilders.com, has introduced two versions of the Weiner action figure doll.  One version is g-rated and the other, for a $10 premium, is “anatomically correct.”  The company, which also has a Sarah Palin action figure doll, claims that no one is buying the cheaper, “standard” Weiner doll.  Most are opting for the uncensored version.

But I digress.  This post is not about action figure dolls.  It’s about arrogance and stupidity.

Yes, I’ve done some really dumb things in my life, things that if I had it to do all over again, I’d do differently (and, hopefully, better).  Unlike Anthony Weiner, though, I do not hold public office...either elected or appointed.  That’s not an excuse for those dumb things I’ve done and for which I must take responsibility.  But I am not a politician or a celebrity whose actions are scrutinized by thousands, if not millions.  

So what is it about these high powered, public figures...congressmen, senators, and even U.S. presidents...that allows them to believe they can engage in these indiscretions and not step into deep doo-doo?

Just look at the list politicians who have been caught behaving badly recently.  Besides Weiner, there are former governors Arnold Schwarzenegger (who also has his own action figure doll), Mark Sanford, and Jim McGreevey.  There are former senators John Edwards, John Ensign, and Larry Craig.  New York Attorney General Eliot Spitzer and, of course, former President Bill (“Slick Willie”) Clinton, had their own very public sex scandals.

Even foreign politicians have been getting into the act.  Former IMF head Dominique Strauss-Kahn and former Egyptian bank president Mahmoud Abdel Salam Omar seem to be attracted to New York hotel housekeepers.  Seriously, guys?  Chambermaids?

Some might point to social media as the real culprit.  Most politicians these days use social media sites like Facebook and Twitter to communicate with their constituents (and with the media).  Congressman Weiner had around 40,000 followers on Twitter before he inexplicably decided to tweet pictures of his Oscar Mayer wiener.  According to one article, his Twitter followers have nearly doubled since the Weinergate story broke and the number is expected to hit 100,000 by the end of this month.  Oh my how we seem so interested in and attracted to matters prurient.

But to blame social media for what happened to Weiner is like blaming guns for killing people.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but to echo the NRA mantra, guns don’t kill people, people kill people (although guns do make it a whole lot easier).  You can’t blame Facebook and Twitter for how people use them.

The real culprit is conceit, arrogance, vanity, ego, and narcissism.  Unfortunately, these same traits are often the very traits that drive people to run for public office in the first place.  And these are the same traits that enable these very public figures to believe that they can get away with these very stupid actions.

While most politicians can effectively manage or control the negative aspects of these requisite traits and put them to positive use, some seem to let the darker side prevail.  Like the Washington Post’s Joel Achenbach recently wrote, “These guys say: Look at me.  Look at me.  Look at me.  And the weak and the flawed and the stupid don’t know when and where and how to stop.”

It turns out that Weiner has decided to resign from the U.S. House of Representatives as a result of his inappropriate tweets and his ill-conceived efforts to cover it up.

But hey, he's now got his own anatomically correct action figure doll!  No doubt he will be publishing his own best selling memoir soon and will probably have a TV movie about his sexploits on a cable network like Lifetime or SpikeTV.

Anthony Weiner: Action Hero?  Only to the Republicans, probably.

I've got those old BlackBerry blues

Visualize blues virtuoso B.B. King strumming on his beloved Lucille and wailing a sad and melancholy story as only he can.  Got it?  (If you’re having trouble with that image, here’s a hint: look at the picture on the left.)  Well, my friends, that pretty much sums up how I’m feeling right about now when it comes to my BlackBerry.

Coincidentally, this same feeling applies to the Boston Red Sox, who have lost their first six games of the 2011 baseball season.  But that’s a sad and melancholy tale to be told at another time.

I’ve had a BlackBerry Storm 2 since November 2009, when they first came out.  I was never particularly thrilled with the device, so my plan was to trade it for a new smartphone this summer, now that I am eligible, per Verizon, for new phone.

Like just about everyone else, I want an iPhone or an Android device and planned to get one or the other when the time came.  But sometimes things just don’t turn out as planned.  Instead, I got another BlackBerry.

First, some background.  My two-year contract with Verizon was in my name.  Verizon would bill me, I would pay the bill, and then submit it for reimbursement on an expense report.  Hey, this is all legit...I use the device primarily for business.

Then my company was acquired in August, and the new company requires that all employees whose jobs, like mine, necessitate cell phones for business purposes have their cellular service through the “master contracts” it has with the big three: Verizon, AT&T, and Sprint.

That’s actually a good thing.  It means my employer will pay the carrier directly and I won’t have to deal with paying the monthly bill, submitting an expense report, and waiting to get reimbursed.

Wag the Dog

Until very recently my new employer provided only BlackBerry devices for its employees.  But the senior executives at my small company, all of whom have stayed with the larger company since the acquisition, have either iPhones or Droids and don’t want to give them up (i.e., return to a bland, company-issued BlackBerry).  So, in a classic tail-wagging-the-dog scenario, the new company agreed to start offering support for iPhones and Droids.

Okay, enough background.  I was in the middle of going through this process of transferring ownership of my cellular service from me to the company when something totally unexpected happened.

Don’t ask why...it’s a long, sad story (and possibly fodder for a good blues song for B.B. King)...but I was in a laundromat last week doing a wash when I pulled my ringing BlackBerry out of my belt holster.  It slipped from my hands and fell crashing down onto the ceramic tile floor.

Sure, I’ve dropped my BlackBerry before.  Many times, in fact.  Sometimes the back cover comes off and the battery pops out, but by simply re-inserting the battery and putting the cover back in place, all is good as new.

This time, however, when I picked it up I was shocked...SHOCKED!...to see that the touch screen on my Storm 2 was shattered...shattered to the point that when I touched it (after all, it is a touch screen), I got several tiny slivers of glass stuck in my finger.  OUCH!

I returned from the fateful laundromat and called the woman at my company who was helping us newbees convert over to the master contract for our smartphones.  I explained what happened and told her that, while this was not my preferred timing, I needed an immediate replacement for my fractured BlackBerry and asked her to get me an iPhone as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, ASAP for an iPhone (or a Droid) through the official company sourcing service would be a week, maybe two.  For a person whose BlackBerry is no less critical to survival than are his lungs (which is why it is often referred to as a crackberry), that would have been an eternity.  “But I can have a replacement BlackBerry in your hands in two days,” she said.

“Oh.  I see,” I said with clear disappointment in my voice.  “Would it be another BlackBerry Storm 2, like the one I have now?”

“Nope,” she said, cheerfully.  “That would also take a week or two.  It will be a BlackBerry Bold.  That’s standard issue and is what our supplier stocks.”

I told her to proceed.  This happened on a Thursday afternoon, and I figured I could survive without my BlackBerry until Monday.

As it turned out, the BlackBerry Bold didn’t arrive until Wednesday evening, two days after  she said it would.  The Bold is like the BlackBerry devices I used to have a few years ago; it doesn’t have a touch screen or a virtual keypad.  Instead it has a physical keypad with tiny buttons and a track pad for scrolling around the screen.

I occasionally forget that it’s not a touch screen device and start pressing on the screen waiting for it to respond.  It doesn’t.  I also find myself rotating it from vertical to horizontal, expecting the screen orientation to shift with the repositioning.  It doesn’t.

I suppose I’ll get used to using the little keys on the physical keypad of the Bold.  After all, it took me a while to get used to using the virtual keypad on the Storm.  But I do feel like I’ve taken a giant step backwards.

That is why I have the BlackBerry blues.

And totally unrelated, the Red Sox blues.

“Great News!”

“Great News!” the text message I received from Verizon announced.  “You have a line eligible to upgrade to a new phone w/2 yr agreement.”  Hurray!  I am finally able to upgrade to a new phone!

I have been a BlackBerry devotee for well over a decade.  I think it was 1997 when I acquired my very first BlackBerry.  At that time, it was simply the greatest communications device ever conceived.  But alas, over the last three or four years, with the phenomenal success of the iPhone and the introduction of a host of Google Android devices from Motorola, HTC, and other manufacturers, BlackBerries have fallen behind the curve in terms of features, functionality, and, well, smartphone sex appeal.

I must admit that I have covertly coveted the iPhone since it was first introduced by Apple in 2007.  But as long as AT&T was the exclusive carrier for the iPhone, I would never consider getting it.  Simply put, AT&T sucks as a cell phone service provider.  So instead of getting an iPhone, my wife bought me an iPad Touch for my birthday a few years ago.  The iPad Touch is essentially an iPhone without being able to take or make calls, which is basically the same thing as having an AT&T iPhone.

I did give some thought, when I had my last opportunity to upgrade to a new phone, to switching from my BlackBerry to a Motorola Droid, which was introduced by Verizon in November 2009 at around the same time that Verizon rolled out the BlackBerry Storm 2.

In the end, though, I just couldn’t turn my back on my longstanding history with BlackBerry, so I bought two BlackBerry Storm 2 devices...one for my wife and one for me.  (Verizon was having a “buy one, get one free” promotion at the time.  Who can resist such a deal?)

The best I can say about the Storm 2 is that it’s “okay.”  It works well as a phone, and it handles e-mail extremely well.  But it doesn’t quite stack up to its 2011 competition when it comes to three critical areas for state-of-the-art smartphones: web browsing, a multi-touch pinch screen, and literally hundreds of thousands of cool applications to download.

Now that Verizon has the iPhone, I can finally get one from a cellular provider that actually enables it to reliably function as a phone.  Why, then, you might ask, with this recent “Great News!” text message from Verizon, haven’t I sprinted to my nearest Verizon store and upgraded to the iPhone?

The real question I need to consider is whether I should make the switch now to the Verizon version of the iPhone 4 (or alternatively, to an Android device) or wait a few months until the iPhone 5, which is expected in June or July, is introduced.  The other factor is that Verizon has recently launched 4G LTE technology that is noticeably faster than current 3G service.  But no one knows for sure if the iPhone 5 will be 4G capable and most 4G phones from Verizon are due to be released “in the first half of 2011.”

And so my wife (whose opinion of the BlackBerry Storm 2 is that it falls somewhat short of “okay”) and I will likely wait until the summer to make the upgrade to the next generation of smartphones.  By then, the iPhone 5 will have been introduced, more Android 4G devices will be available, and perhaps even RIM, the manufacturer of the BlackBerry, will introduce a competitive version of its device that will at least, after all these years as a BlackBerry loyalist, deserve my consideration.

Sorry, Verizon, but “great news” though it is, I’m going to pass for now.  Talk to me in July.

White Pages going dark?

Some people in New Haven, Connecticut are not happy that regulators in many states are granting the phone companies permission to stop publishing those once ubiquitous White Pages phone books.

It seems that the thick book chock full of residential names, addresses, and phone numbers...those of your neighbors, friends, and perhaps colleagues...is the latest victim of 21st Century technology.

Why?  Well, for one thing, more and more people are dropping traditional land lines and are opting for getting by with just their mobile phones.  And cell phone numbers are not published in the White Pages books.  It also seems that the number of new orders for land lines has been declining significantly over the past decade, while existing land lines are being discontinued at a rate of nearly 10 percent each year.

In addition, most people these days, according to representatives of the phone companies, are leveraging the internet to find phone numbers, rather than flipping through the pages of the phone book.  As a result, these thick Wage Pages books often go unused, simply taking up space on kitchen counters, languishing atop refrigerators, or ending up stuffed into junk drawers.

Phone companies are also touting the positive environmental impact of eliminating the publication of paper phone books: less paper, less ink, and less recycling.  It is kind of interesting that the phone companies don't seem to be talking about how the elimination of the White Pages will potentially lower their costs and, thereby, produce higher profits.  I wonder why that is.

So far, 16 states have granted (or are currently considering granting) permission to the phone companies to cease publishing print versions of the White Pages.  The likelihood is that more states will follow suit in the near future.

Yet, unlike the White Pages, business directories, often referred to as “The Yellow Pages,” seem to be thriving.  According to the Yellow Pages Association, an industry trade group, more than half of American still let their fingers do the walking.

So exactly why are the folks from New Haven, in particular, so piqued by the possible demise of the White Pages?  It’s because New Haven considers itself to be the birthplace of the White Pages.  The New Haven District Telephone Company published the first telephone subscriber listing on February 21, 1878, about two years after the telephone was invented.  It had fifty names...and no, mine wasn’t one of those fifty.  I never lived in New Haven.

So New Haveners are apparently pissed off that their one-page sheet of telephone subsciber names from 1878, which over the decades evolved into the thick, annually published book of names and numbers that has since become a household fixture, has been rendered obsolete, thanks to the Information Age and the internet.

Damn you Al Gore!

 

I'm one selfish elite...or am I?

I’ve had my iPad for just over a week now and I’ve learned a lot about myself in that time.  No, it’s not because of the iPad that I’ve gained any personal insights; it’s because of a study conducted by consumer research firm, My Type.  The results of the survey were published in Wired.com, among other places.  My son, for some reason, posted the Wired.com article on my Facebook wall.  Was he trying to tell me something?

The psychological profile of iPad owners, according to this study, indicates that they are “selfish elites.”  iPad owners scored highest in such areas as wealth, sophistication, being highly educated, and being disproportionately interested in business and finance.  They scored terribly in the areas of altruism and kindness.  In other words, iPad owners are “self-centered workaholics who value power and achievement and tend not to be kind or to help others.”  Ouch!

Having recently become an iPad owner, when I read the article my son sent to me, it got me wondering how I stacked up against that nasty profile of iPad owners.  I took stock and here’s what I came up with:

The bottom line?  My humble, non-statistically valid, and totally unscientific assessment is that I’m most definitely not a “selfish elite.”  Not totally, anyway.  I am, at most, a pseudo-semi-selfish elite.  Perhaps that is because I was given the iPad and didn’t buy one on my own, something I had no intention of doing.  Thus, I’m not an iPad owner in the classic sense.

(Yes, I know.  It does seem kind of silly to reference “in the classic sense” in this context when the iPad was just introduced to the market four months ago.  But hey, if Coke can use it to describe its original formula soda, as in “Classic Coke,” I suppose it’s not too much of a stretch to refer to someone who actually stood in line at an Apple store and shelled out at least $500 to buy one as an iPad owner “in the classic sense.”)

But, once again, I digress.  My personal attributes, as documented in the table shown above, have about a 50% correlation to those iPad owners in the study.  I am relatively highly educated, I do have a keen interest in business, and I’m not very charitable.  I don’t give at the office, or at home, or especially to those annoying, bell-ringing Salvation Army freaks who stand in my way outside of various retail establishments at Christmastime.

On the other hand, I certainly don’t consider myself to be “wealthy,” I am anything but sophisticated, and I am as kind as kind can be.  I wouldn’t hurt a fly...as long as it doesn’t ask for a handout or want me to write it a check.

That’s MY iPad, dammit

I have to admit that I am impressed by the iPad.  Unfortunately, I’m more impressed by what it can’t do than by what it can do.  You can’t print anything from it.  You can’t upload things from a USB port unless you first upload them to iTunes and then, if it is compatible...a very big IF, move it to the iPad.  For e-mails, you can’t use italics, bold, or even different colored fonts, as you can with most e-mail applications like gmail or Outlook on regular PCs or Macs.  Unlike most newer laptops or netbooks, there’s no webcam.  It doesn’t have a digital camera like the iPhone, BlackBerry, or most cell phones do.  And while surfing the web is pretty slick, if you land on a website that uses Adobe Flash...and many do...you’re SOL.

Maybe there is a way to do some of these things on the iPad, but having just one week’s experience with the device, I haven’t yet figured out how.  I suppose that, while the iPad is a neat and elegant gadget, when it gets right down to it, a lightweight netbook is probably a better all around option for all but the most selfish elites.

Hey!  What do you think you’re doing?  That’s my iPad dammit...and YOU can’t have it!

iPadding around

Okay, I am officially cool.  I’m “with it.”  I’m hip.  Oh yeah, I’m fly.  Wanna know why?  I have an Apple iPad!

During a company sales team meeting this week, I was presented with the ultra-cool, must-have techno-gadget that Apple introduced in the beginning of April.  It arrived to rave reviews and has achieved astonishing commercial success, having sold 3.2 million units and bringing in more than $2 billion in revenue for Apple through the end of June.  This iPad gift was bestowed upon me in recognition, I was told, of the contributions I have made to our very successful sales effort year-to-date.

What?  I help bring in around $22 million in new revenue and all I get is a friggin’ $500 iPad?  Those cheap bastards!

I’m just kidding.  I’m such a kidder!  The iPad has been touted as a game-changer when it comes to how we humans interact with technology, so, as someone who is drawn to the latest, greatest technology like a moth to a flame, I thought it would be kind of neat to have an iPad, even though I couldn’t think of a single practical reason to use one and couldn’t come close to being able to justify spending half a grand to buy one.  So I was naturally excited about having been given one...for free!

To show appreciation to my employer for giving me an iPad, I spent much of yesterday afternoon playing around with the iPad instead of doing the work I’m being paid to do.

I don’t have an iPhone because I would never consider going with AT&T as my cellular service provider.  AT&T cell service, in a word, sucks.  But I do have experience with iPods.  My wife gave me an iPod Touch for my birthday a few years ago and it’s a great little device.  I use it primarily for three purposes: first, to listen to my vast library of Yanni songs that I downloaded from iTunes or imported from CDs; second, to play solitaire, my one and only iPod Touch game; and finally, as an alarm clock when I’m traveling.

I like the iPod Touch.  It’s small and portable and has a nice, intuitive user interface.  And I’ve found that if I’m having trouble falling asleep at night, a few games of solitaire while laying in bed will usually knock me right out.

A big Touch

My first impression of the iPad is that it’s essentially a much larger iPod Touch.  Much larger.  Think of the size of Barry Bonds’ head before he used steroids and after.  Or think about Nutrisystem’s NOW Mike as the iPod Touch and THEN Mike as the iPad.  Much larger.

To get started with my iPad, I synched up my iTunes music library and my game of solitaire so that they are now on my iPad.  I added a Facebook app and set up my gmail account to make it accessible through the iPad.

So what now?  Surely there must be something I’m missing about the iPad that has caused it to be such a runaway success.  I asked one of my co-workers who has an iPad (and an iPhone) what he does with it.  “Oh I love it, there are all kinds of things I can do with my iPad,” he said with great enthusiasm that only those who are addicted to Apple products can muster.  “I can check my mail, surf the web, read e-books, listen to music, and when I’m on a plane, I can watch movies and TV shows that I downloaded from iTunes.”

“Can’t you do all of those things from your iPhone?” I asked.

“Well, I suppose so,” he admitted, “but the screen is really too small to comfortably watch movies or read e-books.”

“But can’t you also do all of that from your laptop, which has a larger screen for better viewing of movies and e-books?” I asked.

“Well, yeah,” he admitted, chuckling and sounding a bit defensive, “but it’s just not as cool as doing all that on your iPad.”

“Ah!  Not as cool,” I said.  “Yeah, I get it.”

To be fair, though, I’ve only been using my iPad for a few hours.  There must be something  that I’ll be able to do with my iPad that I can’t do with my iPod Touch, my laptop, or my BlackBerry.  Something!

Something besides being cool. that is.  Sadly, it would take a lot more than using an iPad to make me “cool.”