About Me

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Delray Beach, FL, Westport, MA, United States
Undergraduate degree, Colby College; MA in English, Columbia Teacher's College; former high school English teacher in three states; former owner of interior design co. with MA from R.I. School of Design. Barking Cat Books published my first book in 2009 titled, MINOR LEAGUE MOM: A MOTHER'S JOURNEY THROUGH THE RED SOX FARM TEAMS. My humorous manuscript titled ELDERLY PARENTS WITH ALL THEIR MARBLES: A SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR THE KIDS was published in June, 2014. In 2015 A SURVIVAL GUIDE won a gold medal in the self-help category at the Florida Authors & Publishers Association conference. In 2018 Barking Cat Books published my SURVIVING YOUR DREAM VACATION: 75 RULES TO KEEP YOUR COMPANION TALKING TO YOU ON THE ROAD. See website By CLICKING HERE.
Showing posts with label Battery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Battery. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

An Apple a Day Keeps ME Away (from the Apple store)

     I love my Apple 5S phone. It's like an old friend who's missing a few updates, slow to react, and shows some wear and tear. But it's reliable and fits in my hand perfectly and I think it's still beautiful. It provides everything I need and I don't have to go searching around.  So what if it needs a little attention - don't we all?

The Apple 3 Iphone, predecessor to my 5S.

     My old friend began to get tired. I remained faithful and swept open pages off the screen before putting it to bed every night in its plug on the kitchen wall. I deleted apps that were never used and removed some photos I'd never looked at twice to give it more space. I plugged it in more and more frequently, bonding with my old friend since I often needed energy boosts, too.

     Still, I got frustrated. It was taking ninety seconds to download twenty to forty emails - imagine the wasted time???

My Apple 5S Iphone

     I tried to be patient with my old friend. It might have been better for both of us if I'd put him on a shelf in my closet cemetery to Rest In Peace. But I listened to the news about the Keaton Harvey vs Apple, Inc., Lawsuit #3 of December, 2017, in which the plaintiff claimed Apple slowed older iPhones with older, degrading batteries to encourage customers to purchase new phones. Battery replacements became available from Apple stores for $29 instead of $79, following the announcement. And naturally there was nowhere else I could get one!

     Our nearest Apple store was in a gigantic mall in the next town of Boca Raton, Florida. I had another stop to make in the mall and hadn't eaten lunch, so I headed down. I stopped at the Apple store first, since I'd heard horror stories about the wait time.

     The glass-fronted store was double the width of Louis Vuitton's. Its bleached wood high-top islands stood several yards apart, five across and three deep. The rear of the store was padded in gray with built-in screens. At each island there were eight stools. Most were occupied.

     I entered and must have looked dazed. "May I help you?" a young man said, in the navy-shirt-khaki-pants uniform matching twenty other young men and women scurrying around the islands with Ipads.

     "I need a new battery for my 5S phone."

     "Please sit over at that island," he said, walking toward a high-top and using his Ipad as a pointer.

     I moved across the front of the store to sit with six others at the assigned location. It wasn't long before another young man in navy and khaki with a beard and tattoos covering his arms asked me the same question.

     "I need a new battery for my 5S phone."

     "Do you have an appointment?"

     "No. I have a couple of stops to make in the mall while it's being done."

     The bearded man with tattoos consulted his Ipad. "Right now the appointment wait time is about two hours."

     "I can do that."

     "I'll schedule you for a technician in two hours. Please return at four o'clock." (It was then 2:00.) He put my name on a list on his trusty Ipad.

     I went for some lunch in the food court. Normally I'd check my emails during lunch, taking time to read and delete or file in a folder what I only have time to scan during the rest of the day. But without my phone I munched and people-watched for forty-five minutes. Next I went to Nordstrom, where I'd purchased a pair of pants that needed alterations. I produced the heels I intended to wear from the tote over my shoulder and tried the pants on. Once the seamstress was located, I stood on a platform while she pinned up the hems. I arranged to have the pants shipped and walked the perimeter of the mall to window shop.

     At 3:50 p.m. I returned to the Apple store. "I have an appointment at 4:00 for a battery replacement on my 5S phone," I said.

     "Please sit at that table - the second from the rear on the left." I joined five others, all waiting for appointments on stools.

     At 4:00 a technician came to our table and called out a name. It wasn't mine. It was the lady's next to me. She had basic questions about her Mac computer and the tech easily answered them. "Could you look at the list to see where 'Pam Carey' is, please?" I pleaded when he'd finished with the woman next to me.

     "You should be up next."

     "Thanks," I said, and waited till 4:30 p.m. for a female technician to call my name.

     "I need a new battery for my 5S," I said for the ??? time.

     "Follow me," she said . . . which I did to a high-top diagonally opposite where I'd been sitting. "This is Louis," she said. "He'll be happy to take care of you."

     "Louis, all I need is a battery replacement for my 5S."

     His swarthy complexion smiled down at me as I lifted my fanny into the stool. He emitted my first ray of light (and hope) since I'd entered the store at 2:00. Another man's new phone was plugged into the charging dock in the middle of the table. "I'm just reloading this man's information from his old phone into his new one, but I can help you while that's happening," he said. "Let me look at the diagnostics from your phone. Please open your phone with your password."

     He took my 5S and tethered it by umbilical cord into his iPad. "We can free up some storage space before you get a new battery," he said, and proceeded to do so.

     "Now, I must explain to you that a new battery on this phone will cost $79. If you get a new battery on a 6X or any succeeding model, it will cost you only $29."

     "So my phone's too old to qualify for the $29 battery replacement program advertised since the lawsuit was settled?"

     "Correct. Did you look at new phones?"

     "Yes, and I'll be doing that in a few months, but I don't have time today. The newer models start around $500 and up with a plan, correct?"

     "Yes. So you'd still like a battery for this phone?"

     "Yes, please."

     "Then I'll write a work order for this and the work will take at least an hour."

     "Can that be done today?"

     "If you have time today. I can print up a work order which you must present to get the work started. If you'd prefer to come back, report to the last tabletop in the rear on the left."

     "I'll be back tomorrow. Please print up the work order." I arrived home three hours after entering the Apple store the first time.

     The next day Charley returned with me. "Was I exaggerating?" I asked him, as we wound to the last table in the rear.

     "This is incredible," he said. "It's hell on earth."

     I presented the work order to a technician who was leaning over a woman with a Mac at the appropriate table. "May I give this work order to you?" I said.

     "I'll get someone for you." She spoke into a microphone on her lapel and returned to the problem on the screen in front of her.

     When a young man with the face of a fifteen-year-old and round gold-framed glasses sidled up to the stool next to me, I handed over the work order and my phone. He consulted his iPad. "It should take two hours," he said. "It's a Saturday and we're very busy. When you return, just go directly to the back padded wall and someone will meet you there to check the status of your order."

     "Well, we can go have some dinner. Thanks." We found the Grand Lux Cafe in the mall and followed the hostess to a padded booth. I ordered a Cosmopolitan and Charley ordered a beer. "Let's relax," I suggested. The dinner was delicious and we each ordered another drink.

     An hour and a half went by. "Let's go see if it's ready," Charley said, anxious to get home to watch the NCAA basketball playoffs.

     We weaved among the shoppers at the high-top tables in the Apple store until we hit the charcoal padded wall in the rear, where we stood waiting for someone to acknowledge us. "I have a work order and would like to see if it's ready," I said, stopping the first technician that went by.

     She was a young lady with dreadlocks and a very round pleasant face. She consulted her iPad. "You're very early," she said. "It won't be ready for another thirty minutes, at least. Come back then."

     We went out into the mall and snagged two armchairs directly across from the storefront. The chairs were not next to each other, which was good, since Charley was doing all he could to control his anger by watching the specimens of humanity, or whatever they were, passing by. At the appointed time we returned to the inferno.

     The same young man who looked fifteen was at a table nearest the back wall, second from the left. "We've been waiting two hours for a battery replacement," I said. "The name is Pam Carey."

     "Yes, here you are on the list. Well, it shouldn't be long now. Just sit at this table and I'll keep checking on it."

     Another twenty minutes went by, for a total of one hundred and forty minutes we'd waited for the battery replacement on the second day. "I'm showing it's ready now," he said. He disappeared and emerged with a thin white padded envelope. Inside was my beloved phone, which I slid from its wrapper and turned on. The young man took my credit card and I signed with my finger. "The game score is really lop-sided," I told Charley, checking into ESPN for the basketball scores. It was the least I could do.
An Apple a day may keep the doctor AND ME away!




   

   

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Bad Timing

Why is it that when you're leaving for a long trip the car won't start?  Or you're waiting for house guests to arrive and a pipe bursts?  Or you're expecting ten for a holiday dinner and the oven konks out?


Several years ago we'd packed our SUV to begin the drive from Massachusetts to Florida.  STUFF for eight months was wedged in like a puzzle.  Golf clubs and tennis rackets slid behind the front seats.  Boxes of paperwork, books, and computer equipment lay on the flattened trunk where the back seats had been. Suitcases spread toward the rear door.  Coats and jackets topped the mound, while shoe bags and boots plugged the holes.  We set the alarm on the house and adjusted our front seats.  Charley turned the key in the ignition.

NOTHING!  Over and over - not even a whine.  Battery dead overnight.

We called the dealer, who promised a tow truck, which arrived an hour later, which had no luck charging the battery, which then needed a tow.  Only one problem:  the BMW couldn't be towed in "Park," and without the ignition on, the gears wouldn't shift to "Neutral."  Oh yes, one other problem:  the over-ride access to the gear shift was under the cup console between the front seats and needed a wrench.  Guess where the BMW geniuses had stored the wrench?  In the trunk.  Guess what else was in the trunk?

We unloaded the car, piled everything in the garage, and watched as our BMW inched its way up the tow truck in "Neutral."  When the car arrived two days later, we made sure it started before we packed it up again, and we never turned it off till we hit the first rest stop 200 miles away.

*************


One son and daughter-in-law were hosting fourteen of us for Christmas Eve several years ago. On the way home from the airport after picking us up on Dec. 23rd, our son received a call from home.

"What's up?" he said.

"We have a flood."

"What?  Where?"

"A pipe was leaking under the kitchen sink and water began pouring into the basement.  I called Serve-Pro and they'll be here soon."

"Unbelievable!  Did you shut off the main water line?"

"Yes. I've got buckets in the basement but there's a big hole in the ceiling down there."

"We're about forty-five minutes away.  Call me when they get there."

Serve-Pro came and cleaned up.  They left behind a blower/dryer in the middle of the kitchen, a wet vac in the basement, and a new kitchen pipe for the holiday.

"You really shouldn't use this sink after Christmas," the man said before he left. "There's mold under the cabinets and it's unhealthy.  All the cabinets will have to be torn out."

"That means a new kitchen, I guess," my daughter-in-law said.  "We weren't planning on it this soon."

"Well, don't worry about Christmas Eve," I said, giving her a big hug.  "We don't care what we eat, as long as we're together.  We can always order pizza! Why not sit down and dad and I will put the children to bed?"

The next day I set the dining room table while our daughter-in-law emptied the lower cabinets.  That evening fourteen of us enjoyed a beef tenderloin roast with Lyonnaise potatoes, fresh green beans, spaghetti squash, and Tiramisu that had been stashed in the refrigerator.  We danced around the blower that continued to rattle in the middle of the kitchen, grateful we didn't have to wash dishes in the bathtub upstairs.

************




A friend of ours was an avid tennis player and agreed to substitute for another team. During the third set in a three-hour match, she injured her Achilles Tendon.  The surgeon ordered a "boot."

"You'd better take it easy for a while, till we can confirm whether it's torn," he said.

"What about Christmas dinner?" her husband said.  "We can always go out."

"No, eight other people are planning to come, and I've already prepared some things ahead.  We'll carry on."

Deidre stood like a stork on one leg making the canapes and setting the table the day before. She hopped from sink to refrigerator preparing two beef Wellingtons and four vegetables on Christmas morning, then went to get dressed.

At 3:30 p.m. she turned on the oven. The oven refused to oblige. "Honey, we have no oven!"

"Try resetting it.  Maybe you didn't hit the proper sequence.  I'll check the breaker."

Deidre tried again, following instructions in the manual. Still nothing.

"OK, now what??  They'll be here at 5:00."

"Call Kim.  Maybe we can use her oven, since she's coming anyway and lives around the corner."

At 5:00 the other eight guests arrived.  Mark served them a drink and Deidre's famous canapes, heated in the microwave.  At 6:00 Deidre announced, "I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we have no oven!  If you'll excuse us, Kim and I are going to drive to her house to cook your dinner.  Her ovens have been pre-heating."

Fifty minutes later, the ladies removed the four vegetables and two beef Wellingtons from Kim's ovens and nestled them in towels and blankets in the trunk so they wouldn't wobble.  Kim slammed the trunk and got behind the wheel.

She turned the key in the ignition...NOTHING.

"Call Mark!  He can come get the dinner."

The ladies went around to the trunk to open it for Mark's arrival.  STUCK!

"Call Mark back and have him bring my husband with his keys," Kim said.

Together the foursome jimmied the trunk open and transferred everything to Mark's car. Dinner was served at 7:00.

Three nights later Deidre hosted a birthday party for Mark.  Sixty people enjoyed her hot canapes, heated in another neighbor's oven.