Sheer Genius

Visiting an Apple Store to get your broken iPod attended to is a lot similar to a visit to the vet with your sick puppy, Fido... Fido, hardly being able to raise its little head to lick your hand while you stroke its head and playfully rub its ears, whimpering as it stares with you those big, puppy eyes, its listless body hanging limp in your arms as you burst through the door at the vet... yes... it's a lot like bringing your ailing iPod into an Apple Store, hoping, wishing and so desperately NEEDING the tender loving care that might bring it back to life.

Sitting at the benches lined up along the 'Genius Bar' counter at the Michigan Avenue among other iPod owners who were waiting for their names to be called out, I could not help but be totally amazed at what kind of personal culture Apple has created in the hearts of the owners of its gadgets. Here I was, with about a dozen other iPod owners (and a few that were toting their PowerBooks), all tenderly holding their beloved little mp3 players in their hands while patiently waiting for their turn, and I could not help but think that this would be exactly like what a waiting room at a vet would look like, save for stacks of Highlight magazine on the tables. Having spent my share of fun times at the customer service lines in various sorts of tech retailers, this observation was a totally novel one.

The other iPod owners were mostly 'kids' in their teens, and the four Geniuses (the supposed iPod doctors that were all trained to be ninja masters at everything iPod, according to the pamphlet I was fiddling with) that were helping out the worried owners from behind the bar counters seemed just a few years older than the owner demographic -- and all seemed undoubtably hip with the right mix of hair styles, clothing, accessories and random piercings and tattoos in just the right place for hipness. Of course, the entire area is decorated in line with the usual Apple Store theme -- clean white surface, opaque glass, contemporary veneer finishes and stainless steel accents -- and you feel your own hip quotient clicking up a few notches just for being there.

When your name is called, you approach the bar, hand over your iPod, then take a sit at the bar stool while explaining Fido's symptoms. Then the Genius politely ASKS if it'd be okay with you if he ran some test of his own; totally useless question ("Whatcha mean, run some tests? What is this nonsense? Don't you have some special genius power of omniscience?") but definitely appreciated. Your mood considerably brighter (those damn Geniuses obviously know how to work it), you watch them as they hook up your iPod to PowerBooks and run a few diagnostics on the iPod -- and this is much less like a mechanic hooking your car onto an ugly, brutish looking apparatus to run diagnostic tests in a grimy garage, but like watching Patch Adams working on the kids.

I suppose if the symptoms were something that they can fix, they'll explain the situation to you patiently and with considerable care, then work with you to arrange the next steps. Alas, my poor iPod; it was beyond recuscitation...

That's when they whip out a fresh new iPod from the cabinets behind the bar, still cradled in its factory packaging, and tell you that they're replacing your iPod for free!!! (All iPods come with 1yr warranty; I had a two year AppleCare Protection on my baby that I purchased for $49.) I could see that this is a regular occurance here... the Genius who was helping me out just handed me this brand new iPod without any haggling, reminder of how generous uncle Apple is, or any other such nonsense. Amazing.

It's not the whole free replacement thing, but the experience of getting PERSONAL CARE for your purchases that exemplifies the types of owership experience you have with Apple products.

Sheer Genius, I tell ya.