Sandra Tsing Loh gets her iPad.
For a time I did NOT understand why one NEEDS an IPAD. This was because my only EXPERIENCE on one owned by a GIRLFRIEND was playing Angry Birds—And to me, in COMPARISON with my iPhone, on the much larger IPAD those birds seemed too big and fat and slow. Maybe a bit less ANGRY. They seemed more like Irritated Birds. Peckish Birds.
Then I had lunch with my friend Deb Morris. Deb Morris is one of those WHIRLWINDS of working mother techno-energy. There is no MOBILE device she doesn’t LOVE, and that she hasn’t MAXIMIZED for processing her CALENDARS, BILLS, favorite HBO shows, RESTAURANT Yelps, the dog’s WEIGHT, her daughter’s HOMEWORK. She convinced me, first of all, that professionally speaking? You need to become more MULTI-PLATFORM, she said. If you’re a writer today, apparently, you don’t just write a book. You write a blog and a tweet and an app. I have NO idea what that means, but I’m TELLING you, I’m GONNA be doing it. Soon-ish.
THEN she informed me that if my GIRLS were going to stay COMPETITIVE in this FRAUGHT educational market, I was GOING to have to get an IPAD loaded with all this amazing new online LEARNING. What learning? Holding the tablet deftly in her left arm like a Statue of Digital Liberty, she pinched, swiped and traced her way through an eye-popping cavalcade of talking BOOKS and CHALKBOARD lessons and NATURE scenes with BUGS on a STICK that were completely interactive! Wow!
After LUNCH I went STRAIGHT to the Apple store, or should I say Apple HIVE. A young MAN in a SKI cap showed me how the I-Cloud can show where you dropped your IPAD, and how you can type a document in a thing called PAGES, which can also take DICTATION. Wow!
Here was the problem though. Instead of dropping 400 bucks, I’d dropped closer to 900 by the time I LEFT, what with the 64K and the 3G and, I don’t know, some high-tech protective Apple SNEEZE film to keep away bacteria. As soon as I got home, I realized I didn’t want my 10 year old to HOLD such an expensive ITEM—I’d just as soon let her doodle on a Ming Vase!
So, I locked the bedroom door to keep away the increasingly I-Curious VERMIN, otherwise known as my children, and eagerly picked up my gleaming new I-Pad! Which sat there looking like a... really big phone. What should I do—put it up to my really big ear? It did nothing.
I realized I had neglected to bring home the most important app of all. An app named Deb Morris!
Next week: A Return to the Toshiba Idiot Bar.