Confessions of a Mac Addict: An iPad Owner’s First Impression

By Shane Craver on April 3, 2010

Bright and early (for me), I lined up in front of a Best Buy in Virginia to attempt to snag one of the 15 iPads they supposedly had in stock. Starbuck’s Venti in hand, I expected it to be a long wait.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

About three minutes after getting situated, a polite Best Buy gal walked out and explained that the iPad shipment had not arrived (it was a bit obvious when the “Sorry we missed you sticker” from UPS was on the front glass door) so she handed me and a few other Early Birds a “pre-sale” ticket and explained that we could come back by 5 pm and pick it up.

Huh?

My line waiting experience lasted only three minutes. I didn’t even have time to start complaining or finish my doggone Venti latte! I wasn’t even given enough time to have a second thought about my upcoming purchase!

So rather than head home, relax and wait, I drove around looking for the UPS guy.

Three hour later, I spot him lollygagging in Best Buy’s loading dock.

Myself, and by now the tortured children I brought along with me to hold a spot in line if my Latte ran dry, rush to the Apple section of the store to cash in our pre-sale ticket and bring home our new, shiny thingamabob from Cupertino.

Being a Mac addict, the unboxing experience just isn’t what it used to be.

I cut away the cellophane, lift off the top of the box (the air vacuum makes it more dramatic and slower than I usually intend), and pull off the plastic sheath that protects Apple’s devices from fingerprints or cosmic rays or something.

I pop out the device, see if I missed anything good and hand the Apple stickers to the kids.

Clearly, I’m a jaded Mac enthusiast.

Rather than immediately flip it on like the impatient four-year-old that I am, I grab another cup of coffee and head up to my office.

As I sit down, I hit the only button on the screen and see “Connect to iTunes.”

What? Why can’t I just start playing with it and do cool stuff like Steve Jobs’ sneaker-loving self does?

Patience is a virtue for the patient.

Begrudgingly, I hook the iPad into my normal iPhone plug and iTunes fires up only to mock me: “iPad will not work with this version of iTunes, please upgrade to version 9.1.”

. . . damn.

By this time, the excitement is gone. I download the new version of iTunes, and then the sync begins . . . of two thousand, three hundred files.

. . . double damn.

I am now intentionally trying to ignore this shiny demon lying in my iPhone’s normal resting place.

To bolster my pretend indifference to this thing, I put something on auction on eBay, type a few emails and make a sandwich.

I contemplate taking a nap.

Forty-five minutes later I look down – it’s done.

I can touch it, unplug it, visit the Bookstore and check out Netflix on the iPad. Oh, yeah, I’m starting to feel it again. The excitement – that Apple marketing magic is dancing around in my mind.

I “slide to unlock” and . . .

It’s my iPhone.

All my iPhone apps transferred over and now I have all of these junk apps on my iPad that I have to clean up!

I give up.

I head back downstairs, put the iPad up to my ear and fake a conversation with someone to annoy my wife who is relaxing on the couch watching some hospital drama like Mercy.

She shoots me a look and says not so lovingly, “You look like an idiot.”

“Thanks, babe, I feel like one.”

My email chimes in on my iPad, I check it. It’s my eBay auction, some guy named Osama (no joke) used “Buy it Now” and actually paid.

I respond to Osama on my new magic device (that’s already losing the magic) that I’ll ship it out today. “Sent on my iPad” closes my message. I don’t know if that makes me a tool or cool.

Regardless, I hand the iPad over to my son and his buddy and start packing Osama’s auction.

It’s another day and I spent $600 on another Apple device that is simply a giant, retarded version of the iPhone, minus the phone.

Sadly, I’ll still buy the 3G version later this month.