I hate my iPod. A lot. Let me tell you why.
I received my iPod as a high school graduation gift. This was
when not many people had iPods, and the only ones who did were
wannabe-hipster scads who ran around, iPods clipped to their belts,
proclaiming, “Oh Marcus, you must listen to this wonderful
band called Guster! They’re simply resplendent!” This
is also when I learned that Guster sucks.
I like to think of iPods as the nerd version of the Air Jordan.
Every time a new model of Air Jordan is released, the shoes
inevitably cost at least $150 the first day they’re out. So,
thinking you’ll go get some sweet kicks that’ll scare
all your opponents off the hardwood, you saunter over to Foot
Locker, drop 150 bones on some Jordans, and walk home with a
self-satisfied grin.
Cut to a week later, when the same shoes come out in, I
don’t know, magenta. Suddenly your shoes have been marked
down to $100 or less, and you feel like a tool. Buying an iPod is
the equivalent of this for people who can’t make a running
lay-up.
I’m not terribly bitter about this, though. Sure,
it’s ridiculous how new iPods seem to get brought out every
week, making your recent purchase seem ill-advised (which is smart
marketing). But if you get past aesthetic beauty it isn’t
difficult to realize that these devices (Video iPods excepted) have
been identical, aside from prettier packaging (sort of like the
Xbox 360, which bears a curious resemblance to an iPod).
What I am bitter about is how shoddily made these products are
and how unashamedly terrible Apple’s customer support is.
A lot of people, myself included, have defended Apple’s
unimaginably supportive customer service. How unimaginably
supportive? Let’s say your iPod will no longer access your
music library, or your hold button gets stuck. You simply walk into
an Apple store and tell them, “Hey, my music-supplying friend
is dead,” and they give you a gee-golly smile and toss you a
refurbished iPod (the same model as the one you came in with, of
course ““ you can’t replace a first-generation model
with an iPod Video). That’s it. No money changes hands. A
brand new iPod, for standing there and picking your nose.
I agree this is convenient and keeps everyone happy. But really,
it’s such a crock of BS.
This is what such a policy says: Apple knows it is selling
inferior products that are going to break at the slightest touch.
I’m currently on my fourth refurbished iPod. The first bit
the dust after Coachella 2004. The second died when I stupidly
plopped it down on a magnet (wholly my fault, just don’t tell
Apple). The third became applesauce when one day it got stuck on
hold and I couldn’t even turn it off. Every time I went in, I
told the Genius Bar what happened and was given a new one.
Which brings me to my current situation: my iPod, if I charge it
for a few hours, will get maybe 30 minutes of battery life. Thirty
minutes. That’s barely enough time to get to Melnitz Hall.
Today things reached a boiling point when, after charging the iPod
for at least five hours, I turned it on while walking down Gayley,
only to find out that “No Battery Power Remains.” Oh,
really? Five hours parked on a source of delicious electrical power
and you can’t even give me 30 seconds of The Velvet
Underground?
Apple hands out free iPods to placate people when theirs start
doing things like deciding they no longer like battery life. The
worst part is that people just put up with it. What if you bought a
Honda Civic, the engine caught on fire, and you took the car in to
a mechanic and a Honda representative handed you the keys to a
brand new one? How would that make you feel about the quality of
the product?
iPods don’t place your life in their hands (unless you
listen to one while walking on train tracks, which is tempting when
listening to Air or Sigur Ros), but this is a case of people
accepting shoddy design because it’s free.
The most hysterically amusing part of this whole catastrophe is
that it has convinced me to actually shell out 400 clams for a new
iPod. Am I doing this because I want a color display? No. Because I
want album art to show up when I select an album? Nope. Because I
want to squint to see a two-inch Edward James Olmos in a downloaded
episode of “Battlestar Galactica?” Hell no.
I’m buying a new one because I want a product that works.
I know if I keep trading in my broken ones, I’m going to get
the same refurbished ones back. In fact, I’d be willing to
bet I’m getting back the exact same iPods I bring in, simply
because I may be the only person who still has a third-generation
iPod.
I love my iPod ““ when it works. But when it continues to
break down for three years straight, I’m going to be
convinced to drop money on a new, more expensive one.
So, Apple, you win for now. But don’t think you’re
going to get me to pay two bucks for microscopic television
episodes.
Humphrey may buy TV shows from iTunes if it means he can put
Veronica Mars in his pocket. E-mail him at
mhumphrey@media.ucla.edu.