Well, today was the day that my old iPod failed me for the last time. As I've reported before, it's been steadily acting up on me ever since right before I went to Brazil last summer and it has gotten progressively worse over time. So, today's lunchtime errand was to run over to the Apple Store in the Domain and pick up a new 80GB iPod Classic to replace "'ol whitey". Contrary to what most of you would expect, I decided not to go with the 160GB model because I just don't need that much space (yet). Plus, I figured I'd save the $100 price difference between the two so that if Apple ever gets off of its collective keester and delivers a solid-state iPod that is big enough to handle my library, the cost of replacing this one won't sting quite as much. Then again, $250 is $250...so it will still zing a bit.
My intent was to get one of the silver/brushed aluminum ones that they have, but through the Apple "genius"'s mistake and my own inattentiveness, I ended up getting home with a black one. However, now that I look at it, I think I like the black finish - it strikes me as elegant and it matches my other must-have personal electronic device, my Centro. Coincidentally, last night I chose to change up the "what's on my iPod" graphic in the sidebar with one that would fit a little better and it just so happened to be a black one. Maybe this was a bit of foreshadowing. I recycled my old iPod at the store, but maybe I should have kept it until the syncing with the new one was done - syncing 8600+ songs takes about 4 hours and through the magic of the iPod software updater, I get to enjoy that fun twice today. Yippee skippee.
The last thing I'll say is that I really hate the Apple store customer service model. Aside from the horrid pretense that oozes out of every pore (their employees are called "geniuses", after all), the notion that I just can't walk in there and handle a purchase on my own is kind of insulting. I can't just walk up to the "Genius Bar" (I am not making that up, I swear) and say, "I'd like to buy an iPod Classic, please"; no, I've got to wait for one of these geniuses to recognize that I want something and make their way over to me. There's no clear indication of what the process is, who I'm supposed to talk to, what the protocol is. I just want an iPod. No I don't need anything else, just give me my new iPod. Please. I would happily walk over to the "Dunce Corner" and avoid all their geniuses if it just meant that I could get in, get what I want, and get out without having to pretend that I'm enraptured by the mere experience of standing close to technology that Steve Jobs brought into this world from his own secret plane of extraterrestrial existence.
Rock on.
My intent was to get one of the silver/brushed aluminum ones that they have, but through the Apple "genius"'s mistake and my own inattentiveness, I ended up getting home with a black one. However, now that I look at it, I think I like the black finish - it strikes me as elegant and it matches my other must-have personal electronic device, my Centro. Coincidentally, last night I chose to change up the "what's on my iPod" graphic in the sidebar with one that would fit a little better and it just so happened to be a black one. Maybe this was a bit of foreshadowing. I recycled my old iPod at the store, but maybe I should have kept it until the syncing with the new one was done - syncing 8600+ songs takes about 4 hours and through the magic of the iPod software updater, I get to enjoy that fun twice today. Yippee skippee.
The last thing I'll say is that I really hate the Apple store customer service model. Aside from the horrid pretense that oozes out of every pore (their employees are called "geniuses", after all), the notion that I just can't walk in there and handle a purchase on my own is kind of insulting. I can't just walk up to the "Genius Bar" (I am not making that up, I swear) and say, "I'd like to buy an iPod Classic, please"; no, I've got to wait for one of these geniuses to recognize that I want something and make their way over to me. There's no clear indication of what the process is, who I'm supposed to talk to, what the protocol is. I just want an iPod. No I don't need anything else, just give me my new iPod. Please. I would happily walk over to the "Dunce Corner" and avoid all their geniuses if it just meant that I could get in, get what I want, and get out without having to pretend that I'm enraptured by the mere experience of standing close to technology that Steve Jobs brought into this world from his own secret plane of extraterrestrial existence.
Rock on.
