The Apple Fulfillment Center

The Apple Fulfillment Center

First the iPod, next the iPhone, now the iPad. Kinda makes you wonder what Apple will come up with next.

Well, I found out when a sturdy, but beautifully designed (like all Apple products) envelope  arrived in our mailbox a week after my new laptop computer came to live at our house. The envelope was from the Apple Fulfillment Center. Yup, that’s what the return address and the letterhead and all the fancy designs said: The Apple Fulfillment Center. Think Santa’s Workshop for big people.

Wow.

With trembling fingers, I opened the envelope. What could it be? My own personal dream come true? A Make a Wish Foundation for adults, even ones who are healthy? A swimming pool for the back yard, complete with someone to clean it every day all summer? A ten year free pass on the airline of my choice? My mind was a chaos of possibilities as I reached in and pulled out…the AppleCare Extended Service.

Wow.

That’s Apple’s idea of fulfillment? An extended warranty document? If so, then I think the stereotypical image of computer people – a bunch of geeks who think computers are good for whatever ails a person – is true. Their concept of fulfillment makes me feel sorry for their spouses. I can see them opening birthday cards from their strangely fulfilled mates. I bet the cards are written in binary code. And for Christmas, they get extended warranty documents with a note saying, “Fulfilling your dreams for the next 1095 days. Please keep this card as your receipt.”

Wow.

The way I look at it, Apple has a big marketing problem now. I mean, where do they go from here? If their customers are fulfilled, they won’t want anything else, right? Unless, of course, they come out with every kid’s dream gift – the iPony, and every adult’s dream spouse – the iPerson, programmed to be at one’s beck and call 24/7 until the three year warranty runs out. I could use one of those.

Wow.

Armed and Dangerous

Armed and Dangerous

I’m not sure when it happened but sometime in the last five years, technology invaded my office. I am now the owner of a MacBook, a snazzy digital camera, a telephoto lens, a fancy flash attachment, a tripod, a digital camcorder, a new fliptop cell phone, an external hard drive, an iPod Classic, a tape recorder and a gizmo that allows me to use it to record phone interviews, several carrying cases, multiple charger cords and more cables than you can shake a stick at.

If I knew how to “utilize new technology to the fullest,” these devices would make my life easier. But I know just enough to be dangerous, never efficient. My external hard drive, which I use to back up documents and pictures says it is full, and I have no idea how to get rid of its technoclutter. The manual to the fancy flash attachment says that to determine the correct flash bounce angle, I should check the camera’s ISO setting. What does that mean? My iPod is always syncronizing, the tripod sometimes collapses without notice, the new cell phone’s ring is unfamiliar, and my technology drawer is a mass of cables and chords that look an awful lot like the Canadian garter snake balls I saw in National Geographic once. Sometimes I hear things moving around in the drawer. I think they’re mating.

The situation will never get better, only worse. More technology will invade my house and breed behind closed drawers. So consider this your warning. I’m armed and dangerous. It’s time to lock the doors.