Mary Oves
Mary Oves Danny Drake

Steve Jobs, if you were in front of me right now, I would punch you in the nose.

You listening, Steve? Yeah, you heard me, a nice shot right in the kisser. Because I trusted you. And you let me down.

We're an Apple house. It started with iPods, then it was a Mac, then iPod touches and iPhones. And we love them. Everything on the same system. The twins are already talking about getting Macbooks.

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You've always made everything easy for us, Steve. When we needed the new iTunes, you let us know. When Safari needed an update, you sent us a pop up. We've always gotten along so well, so effortlessly.

Until now.

I'm taking my sons on vacation for a few days, and it'll be a four-hour drive. So when my son asked if he could use his own summer money to buy an iPod touch to replace the one he lost, I agreed. I guess my question is this:

How do you sleep at night?

How can you sell a three hundred dollar piece of electronic equipment to a 12 year old without giving him full disclosure of information?

Let me catch you up. It is Halloween weekend, the greatest kid weekend on Earth excluding Christmas. We had decorations to put up, cookies to bake, chili to simmer. But we took two hours out of our busy Saturday to hit Best Buy and purchase the iPod touch. We got home, excited to decorate our graveyard. I sent my son upstairs to register his iPod, and told him to hurry back down to help decorate.

Hah. As if it would be that easy. He whined enough so as to force me upstairs to take a look. His iPod wouldn't register because we needed some kind of update.

How did we not know this? Jenny Craig still sends me letters of concernĀ 10 years later. Jeep sends me recalls on buttons and knobs. J. Crew once sent me a scarf, worried when I hadn't ordered anything in some time.

Aren't you a billionaire? Isn't my name in some kind of database that could send me an email, stating something like: "Attention Mac Users - to use any of the new equipment, you will need to update your computer with new software."

Why did my Saturday have to be ruined? Why did I have to sit on the phone with people, and speak to a woman who had no idea what she was doing? Seriously, Steve, your tech expert was no expert - she didn't know how to help me, or where to send me.

Three hours. From the website to the webphone to the Geek Squad, it took three hours of my Halloween Saturday to get this answer:

"You have to buy $50 software."

Oh, really? And why didn't someone in Best Buy tell me this? Why didn't someone on the Geek Squad tell me when I first called?

"Because phone consultation is not a service we provide."

But a service you DO provide is selling expensive electronic equipment to young kids without telling them what they need to get it up and running?

So let me put it in perspective, Steve. By the time you read this, Halloween will be over. But right now, as I write this, it's tomorrow. I have to attend church. Run my dog. Go to the supermarket. Bake cookies. Make chili. Build a graveyard. Do laundry. Do schoolwork and lesson plans. Get ready to entertain family and friends. Take my sons Trick or Treating. Clean up. And somewhere in that chaos, I have to find time to run BACK to Best Buy to buy software I didn't know I needed until we got home. Because you didn't tell me.

And what if I don't know how to download this Snow Leopard software? What if it doesn't work? We leave on Wednesday, he needs it by then. I work, I don't have time to run around.

You're ruining my Halloween, Steve. I won't forget this.

Shame on you.

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