In an April Fast Company article, Gina Trapani offered three most excellent reasons not to buy the iPad, arguments I repeated to myself during the seven months I resisted buying one:
1. "First-generation Apple products are for suckers."
There will be problems … though I hadn't heard of any. The next round will be cheaper (remember what happened with the iPhone?). The next round will have more capabilities—a camera, maybe two! You will be able to FaceTime with it!
2. "You don't know if you need an iPad yet."
I already know that I don't! Of course I don't need it. It will be fun and convenient. It will likely change how I write, think and play. But I don't need it.
I am a rational person who understands the difference between wants and needs (most of the time). Needs include food, water, shelter, to be surrounded by my loved ones, but an iPad? No. No matter how awe-inspiring its features.
3. "New gadgets create friction in your life"
So true! New systems must be learned, which is time consuming and sometimes also aggravating. Yes, Apple products are totally intuitive and user-friendly, and Tyler Gray reported, also in Fast Company in April, that his five-year old son mastered the iPad within five minutes ( surely I'm as capable as a five-year old?). But still … right?
When, sometime in late August, the longing became dangerously severe, I invested a portion of the money I'd earmarked for an iPad into a pair of overpriced black suede boots with three silver buckles per boot. Very biker chic, because I'm tough. I can resist temptation. Plus, fall was looming.
Each time I zipped up my fabulous new boots, I'd think, Haha, take that, Steve Jobs!
Fast forward a month or so. I went to Long Island (via the Bridgeport Ferry) to visit my friend Stephanie. As we were timing our return to the ferry, Stephanie pulled out her iPad.
"I'm just checking to see if there's traffic," she told me as she plugged the addresses into the "Maps" program.
At the word "traffic," my ears perked up.
"Traffic? What kind of traffic are we talking about here?" I asked anxiously.
"Do not worry," she assured me. "The pad will tell us where to go. The pad is never wrong. I trust it more than my own senses."
And then she told me of the day she took an iPad approved traffic-free route, but cars came to a complete stop. To the naked eye, it appeared there was traffic. She rechecked the iPad, which still showed green.
"And would you believe? Not two minutes later, the road opened up, and it was clear sailing! Sense perception is limited," she concluded somberly.
A machine that can direct me away from traffic? At that moment, I knew I would succumb to the iPad. Because I may well be the nicest, friendliest, most polite person you will ever meet ... unless you meet me while I'm sitting in traffic (or after a flight whose duration exceeds eight hours, but that's another story).
Then, I mutate into Medusa, and anyone who looks directly at me turns to stone. (I do not recommend testing this claim.)
I grew up in New York City, public transportation mecca. For me, the only thing better than riding the subway is hailing a cab, and I'd rather do either of those than drive. I was 21 when I got my first driver's license, and then only because it provided me with identification (if you know what I mean).
I bought my iPad on Black Friday. It seemed karmically appropriate.
What I have come to conclude is this: Apple's success can be attributed not to its brilliant marketing or its many and sundry apps or its artfully designed devices or even their ease of use. It's the Gestalt culmination of these. In other words, Apple has tapped into our very psyches and allows us to fantasize that perhaps we can overcome human fallibility.
And really, can you put a price on overcoming the human condition?!
Sally Allen is a Sunday columnist for Westport Patch. She is a freelance writer and writing consultant in Westport.