how do you like them apples?

You've read recently that Apple has sold 42 million iPods in less than four and a half years. Thanks to the iPod, Apple just reported its most profitable quarter ever. But you wonder how many of those 42 million units have gone to people who feel, as you do, that you've just been taken to the cleaners by Apple? You also wonder why do iPods seem to break so frequently? And why is Apple so willing to tick off people who spend thousands of dollars on Apple products by refusing to deal with broken iPods? Or at least that's what I wondered as I went through the five stages of iPod Grief.
--Joe Nocera, The New York Times

Ding dong, my iPod is dead. A few weeks ago I got the folder warning icon when I turned it on.

I restored it, according to Apple's support website, and laboriously filled it up with music again. Then on Monday after work, I got the sad iPod icon when I turned it on.

The fixes on the website this time, however, were of no help, and it directed me to my nearest Apple retail store.

I arrived at the Clarendon location yesterday afternoon to find--ten minutes and three computers later--that all of the appointments for the "Genius Bar" (later it will become apparent why I place quotation marks around this term), Apple's support desk, were filled for the day. Annoyed right off the bat, I sat down in the waiting area to avail myself at least of the store wi-fi for a little while. A man behind the "Genius Bar" saw me sit down. "Are you here for technical support?" he asked. I shot him a withering look. "I was," I replied. "But there's nothing available." He looked around at all the empty seats. "Well, the schedule may be full, but no one's here. How about right now?" I bounded up to the "Genius Bar." "It's my iPod," I said. "I was sad Mac-ed (tm Carrie Bradshaw)." "What?" "Nothing. I got the sad iPod icon." I handed him the little machine, my fingers grazing the engraving on the back I had so lovingly requested just a short while ago.


He laughed. "Well, this won't take very long," he said, barely glancing at the device. "It has to be replaced." "What do you mean?" I protested. "I just bought it. Fourteen months ago. For Hannukah last year." "Well, it has a huge dent in it. And the sad iPod is usually the death knoll. It has to be replaced," he concluded. "Is that code for 'Apple has to sell me another at a huge discount since I just bought this one'?" I inquired hopefully. More laughter. "We'll give you 10% with the trade-in. And all the new iPods have color screens, and they play videos, too!"

What? No, that's not strong enough. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?! There are sooooo many things wrong with this whole scenario. First of all, I don't need my iPod to be in color, or play videos. I. Just. Want. It. To. Play. Music. And apparently, it can't even do that well. Secondly, I did not spend $300 with the expectation that my purchase would last a little over a year. And I don't know anyone who does. Next, I challenge any of you to locate the allegedly "huge dent" on my little iPod. You can't. The Diarist, his wife, and jabooshee--even with the knowledge that there was a dent--all were unable to find it after several minutes of close inspection. And finally, damn the Apple website for suggesting that I visit a store and thereby giving me hope that a repair might be possible. If the product has an expected lifespan of just a year or two--which Apple seems to think is the understanding that its customers have--then, to pull a Ross, "THEY SHOULD PUT THAT ON THE BOX!"

I am not pleased with Apple right now. But I used to admire Steve Jobs's tenacity in valuing form over function. Plus, I grew up with Macs, and I have spent the better part of the last five years looking down my nose at PC owners, and telling any of them who would listen why Apple's products are far superior. So mostly, I feel betrayed.

And yet, I will probably end up buying an iPod nano within the next month--but I will buy the cheapest one there is, since I know it will break come May 2007, and you can bet I'll be investing in the two year "Apple Care" warranty--because I just can't help it: I love walking to work to a soundtrack.

Nocera's excellent article puts the controversy in a larger business context. (Unfortunately it is %#$@*Times Select, but a rant about that will have to wait for another day--I'm just glad I have a reporter family with access to LexisNexis.)