Apple Core, Who’s Your Friend?

So, I have this really great mp3 device that was given to me by my middle son. It’s called a Zune. I really love it. It holds videos, photos, and music, plus some of my collection of lectures that I like to listen to.

There’s only one problem. Zunes are made my Microsoft, and Mac refuses to play nice with my old boyfriend. I can’t even get him to be civil. So my Zune is frozen in time. The Zune is all oldies all the time. Only the things I had put on there (which are extensive) are now available. None of my new tunes will download because of Mac’s Italian temperament.

No, I don’t know WHY I think he is Italian.

He just is.

Our Cube must be some kind of relation, for though it will allow me to use my Zune, it will not interface with the dash controls that make it safer and easier to use while on the road.

So today I went into the den of iniquity which is the local Apple store.

And no, there wasn’t a Granny Smith in sight.

It was a madhouse. I guess Sundays are their busiest day. Who knew?

I wound my way past shiny glowing technological objects of all kinds, surrounded by mesmerized people of all ages. I found what I was looking for and read all about it on the iPad provided. The 18!!! [I counted them] Employees were all very busy helping other people. I noticed on the bottom right of the iPad there was a Support button and I pushed it to find out that you can put yourself in the queue for a salesperson. Which I did. I needed to stay right there so they would find me when it was my turn.

I stood. I stood some more. I admired the thing I wanted that was sitting right in front of me. I stood some more. The thought finally ran through my head that I wasn’t in THAT much of a hurry and I could come back on Monday, but I had driven a fair ways to get there, and decided to count to 100 and if no one came, I would mosey out. Well, some guy in a blue shirt with a thing in his ear and an iPad in his hands came over to tell me someone would be with me soon. And that look here, I was second in line. Which he pointed out was on the display on the iPad. I was sort of creeped out by the efficiency of it.

I told him I would wait.

So I stood some more.

Finally a very sweet young girl who was actually shorter than me [which is no small feat!] PUN PUN, came gliding up.
I asked her my questions about making sure the adapter that came with the Cube worked with this device and she promptly whipped it off its mount and plugged in my cord. Great. I had a few more questions and we finally came to the understanding that I wanted the orange one.

She poked a few buttons on her … I don’t know what it was, it looked like a large cell phone and in a minute or two someone came bounding up with my product, which they keep in the back room, much like the Wizard of Oz. She swiped my debit card into her hand held device and took a step over to a table and pulled out a printed receipt from the side of it. Like magic.

There was no cash register in sight.

It was like a Jedi mind trick… ‘You don’t NEED to see the transaction. You did NOT just fork over your whole allowance for the month on something that is the size of a square of chocolate. Move along.’

She took my email address and when I got home there was another copy of my receipt waiting for me.

Now no one made me go in there. I did it of my own free will. But I feel like I was well and truly played like a virtuoso on the rarest Stradivarius. I was the willing victim of some of the slickest marketing techniques on the planet. Not to mention the absolute genius packaging and product design ever known to man.

Behold the marvels of technology…

From the dark side of the technology chip…

Mac was SO happy to help me load it up with all my current lectures and new music, plus some old favorites that I had on flash drives thank goodness. He fairly fell over himself to make it easy to do. He’s a real charmer when he wants to be.


I still love my Zune. It has pictures and videos of Shelties and family all inside, and a few songs that I cannot convert to the new Nano. So we will still see each other from time to time.

I don’t think Mac cares.

If he is my main squeeze, he doesn’t seem to care if I have a fling on the side.

As long as I don’t try to have a threesome.

I guess even Italians have their limits.