Posts tagged Droid
Since our resident Stunt Blogger, Nuthin, is hard at work on a new blogging event, I’ll take a few moments to go ahead and post a useless little update that I don’t mind getting lost in the shuffle.
My first inclination this morning was to take a picture of my Droid using its fancy pants built-in camera, but then the technical challenges got too overwhelming. It wasn’t a matter of not having enough mirrors; it was more a matter of the convoluted contortions and too many body parts getting in the way. So, I Googled myself a pic instead. I mean, that’s not really cheating if you consider the fact that the Android software is being overseen by Google, right?
Anyhow … this Droid ROCKS!!!! Sorry, but there are simply no two ways about it. I’ve been in regular contact with a dear friend of mine who is — believe it or not — a semi-domesticated marsupial, and when I’ve relayed to him some of the things I’d been reading about the Moto Droid he has regularly smirked and said things along the lines of, “You just go right ahead and believe what you want …”
Well, it’s in my hot little hands now and after a few days of keeping the battery on the verge of melting all I can say is: “WOW!”
This thing is, perhaps arguably, the coolest invention since the LFL (the Lingerie Football League)
Those who have claimed this device to be a potential iPhone killer were not far off the mark. Quite frankly, the Android OS (operating system) is orders of magnitude superior to the Apple OS. But that’s one of the major potential benefits of Open Source software (although, I think it’s safe to say that Sun’s “Open Office” product was a complete debacle!)
But alas, I’m already digressing …
After having lived with TWO lemons over the course of the past — shit, what’s it been. over 3 years now? — it is refreshingto have something that the inverse Love versus Hate relationship is equally as intense. To put it simply, I do not believe I have been this excited about an electronic device … ever! This includes the totally badass media player I picked up just before the Spousal Unit and I went to Jamaica for our belated honeymoon.
As I understand it, the Google phone (Nexus One) is supposed to be a fantastic device, but dudes, come on … it’s an HTC product! I’d rather felch a dead animal on the side of the road during rush hour than ever own anything manufactured by HTC.
Okay, that might have been a bit of a stretch, but it’s all beside the point anyhow: I’m here to giggle and blather about my happy little phone!
If the iPhone once epitomized the concept of a Smart Phone, then the Droid is the True Genius of the litter.
I’ve seen people bitch about the “industrial” look and feel, but that’s what it’s ALL ABOUT, morons!
Droid … THINK ABOUT, you idiot denziens of iPhone fluffage. Droid … as in an android … a @#%$ing ROBOT, okay?
Of course, some of them might be the really creepy anime types that are so into everything Japanese that they’re even into those new-fangled life-like sex robots the Japanese are becoming so infamous over.
Funny how Apple seems to attract the most childishly hysteric adherents and devotees … of course, look at what a spazzy little bitch Steve Jobs is …
But anyhow, I’m not here to denigrate Apple: the marriage of Motorola and Google took care of that!
(Possum, my friend, I do envy your Zippo app, but I already have a collection of real Zippo lighters)
(yeah, that’s the first app a friend of mine has that I was not able to locate for my new phone)
Okay, I hate this faux king phone now.
All of the Faux King’s horses and all of the Faux King’s men could not put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
Alright, I’m over the whole Zippoapp thing now. The only purpose of that app was to demonstrate how sensitive the iPhone is. Well, I tend to find sensitive men are real pussies, so put that in your crack pipe and smoke it, ok?
So, I get the whole, “we have over 100,000 apps to your, what? 20,000 or so?” I have to ask, how many of those 100,000+ apps are worth a damn? How many of them are so poorly written that they cause stability issues with your previous little Apple device? Heck, I was listening to my dad this morning talking about how he had to uninstall all of the apps he has purchased / downloaded since he got his iPhone last September. Yeah, lock-ups happen, plain and simple. It sure must be a pain in the ass not being able to remove your battery, huh?
Oh, speaking of removable batteries, it’s pretty cool being able to buy replacement batteries for my Droid … and for UNDER $20 (US) a piece! As a longboarderwho loves to listen to music while I’m cruising the roads, it will be nice this summer to simply pop out a dying battery and replace it with a freshly recharged one.
The screen, apart from the Droid’s impressive display resolution of 854×480 pixels (compared to the antiquated 480×320-display on the iPhone),is also exceptionally durable. I defy you to try this with your iPhone, Palm Pre or Crackberry whatever!
I definitely dig the slide-out keyboard. Some of the docile, bleating sheep of the Apple devotees denigrate it, but that’s because they’ve not grown accustomed to QWERTY keyboards. Hey,when iPhoners go to landscape mode, your “virtual keyboard” suddenly takes up a big piece of real estate, doesn’t it?
And here’s the part that killed me, folks …
When I opened the package containing my Droid, there was this return envelope:
Yeah, get that … not only do they want me to send back that detestable P.O.S. Touch Pro, but they intend that return to somehow help victims of domestic violence? How ironic is THAT?!?!?! The fact that this phone didn’t INSTIGATE any domestic violence in my house is a miracle (well, if you don’t take into account the fact that the Spousal Unit isn’t playfully referred to as “a six foot tal Scandinavian she-devil” for nothing).
Well, looks like our stunt blogger Nuthin beat me to the punch. Take a few minutes to go check out his latest blogging … it’s simply delicious!
CHOW DOWN, HOGS!
and until next time …
… and don’t forget to leave a comment because …
You may recall my c-Net styled review of the HTC Touch Pro; if not, I highly encourage you to take a few minutes to hop over to that page and read it now.
Assuming you have the time. Which, if such is not the case, then I really don’t understand why you visit this site in the first place. I mean, verbosity is our thing; it’s what we do! To say that we, in the writing of our bloggings here, are anything other than overly verbose would not only be redundant and senseless, it would be downright unnecessary and devoid of wit.
Oh, you’re one of those that are just here for the pictures, aren’t you???
Silly maggot …
Ok, are the rest of you back from reading the review?
Yum, yum … you can just taste the bile, can’t ya?
Well, that was was November 5th, a mere 64 days after I’d acquired that fetid work of the underworld. The adventure had only just begun …
It is now late February and I have continued to endure this … this …
the non-profane eludes me at this moment
I am still the “proud” owner of this little marvel and it still is — lucky me — my primary communication device, of the portable electronic variety, of course. I have, though, attempted to change that on more than one occasion. I guess I should probably address the matter of why it is that it has taken me so many months to finally change my fate:
I visited the local purveyor of Verizon phones at a franchise storefront here in town several weeks after I’d made the fateful mistake of committing to this “smart” phone. My first visit saw me dealing with the younger gentleman that Ron, the owner, has in his employ. I forget his name at the moment, but I walked in, introduced myself and set my phone on the counter.
He furrowed his brow a little and asked, “First gen Touch Pro?”
“Uh … yeah.”
I chuckled, “And as if that weren’t bad enough, this was the ‘upgrade’ to my previous phone which was a first gen Chocolate.”
“Seriously?”, he asked.
“Yeah … am I not just the luckiest dog on the porch?”
We proceeded to talk for a brief few minutes before he said that I really needed to talk to the boss-man. It took me a few days to carve out the time to make it back to the store in the hopes that his boss, Ron, was there. Because the Spousal Unit and Ron have a history, I tend to drag her along with me on these visits. I mean, what can it hurt, right?
We returned a few days later …
I opened the door for my lady and as I followed her in I put on a big smile on my face and nodded, “Heya Ron! How’s things?”
He smiled back, “Goin’ good, man! How have you guys been?”
In total Matrix / Neo style, I mentally dodged the small-talk bullet and cut to the chase: “Dude, I really … desperately and seriously … need your help.”
He shot me a surprised look; not surprising given the opening lob of drama, “Well, we’ll see what I can do. What’s the problem?”
“This,” I said in a playful attempt at feigned anger as I slammed The Brick on the counter.
“Oh,” he said, seemingly unaware that this device was any different than any other PDA / Smart Phone in his inventory, “and what seems to be the problem with it?”
As it turns out, the explanation I gave was actually the germination phase of what would eventually become the cNet styled blogging about this same device that I linked you to earlier. To say that he was a little taken back would be an understatement, but he did laugh with me along the way a few times. The Spousal Unit, however, seemed a tad exasperated at times. Seems my occasional outbursts of manic energy are a touch uncomfortable for her sometimes. I hope it’s not that I embarrass her; that’d be sort of a bummer.
But we don’t have time for such musings this morning. I have a house I need to finish packing and a move I need to make the final arrangements for.
At the end of our pleadings he intimated that he was powerless to do a thing. He did, however, explain that if we took it to a corporate store they would most likely just declare my unit defective and give me a replacement model.
I smiled, as this was my desired outcome.
Ron shook his head, and not in the affirmative, “No, I mean they’ll send you the same model.”
“Oh no,” I blurted out, “No, no, no, no, NO! Dude, that will not do!”
He shrugged his shoulders in a way that I would soon suspect was a calculated and learned trait possibly passed down through corporate sales training sessions at Verizon.
. . .
We all shook hands and said our goodbyes. Seeings how we frequent the same watering hole it only makes sense to keep things on the up and up. And besides, Ron’s actually a hell of a nice guy.
As we drove away I resumed my irritable ramblings.
“Oh my god, what is it with me? Will foul luck and misery follow me all the days of my life?”
.. and …
“Are you shitting me? I cannot believe I am stuck with yet another piece of shit phone for two years!”
… and it continued along similar lines …
Being the fearless, 6 foot tall Scandinavian woman that she is, the wife interrupted me at one point, “If you can handle keeping it long enough, maybe they’ll discontinue it and you’ll get an upgrade to whatever replaces that one.”
I stopped and nodded at the obvious wisdom of her rhetorical question. The image of the two Monty Python-ish cartoon characters from the semi-recent Guinness commercials popped into my head as I blurted out one simple word in a poor Irish accent: “Brilliant!”
Later that evening I visited the Verizon Wireless website. I had been there several days earlier and there were scant few customer reviews on my particular phone (HTC Touch Pro, just in case you forgot). Now there were suddenly hundreds of them! Evidently, there were a whole buttload of those pending approval / moderation and someone must have just clicked on “release/approve all.”
I dare say I cannot ever recall seeing a lower customer rating than what I was staring at. The fact that I did NOT grab any screen captures ticks me off! It was absolute pandemonium! Apart from the rare comment / review by a customer who had obviously just crawled out of a cave and left these comments the same day they purchased this phone, the rest was one angry, vitriolic response after another.
This served as the watering phase of the aforementioned germination process that ultimately blossomed into the blogging that was my own review of the HTC Touch Pro (linked above).
If it was named T H C instead, I’d like to think that all of this would at least make a little more sense …
Anyhow … I came back to the Verizon Wireless website some days later to grab some of the fresh vitriol to use as fodder for my own blogging.
But it was all gone! All references, except for the most benign tech support issues, were completely purged from the site! Not a single customer review. Not a single link to a Discontinued Model, which was still their habit.
Nossir, this sucker just up and disappeared like a thief in the night!
Several months pass and, man, have I got to tell ya … it has been downright nightmarish dealing with this damnable device.
One thing that I will say to its benefit is the fact that it is amazingly durable! My take on this being an effectual weapon was spot on!
Hey, don’t be hatin’ … if you were paying the insurance and you KNEW that you were — some how, some way — getting that thing eventually replaced because it was not only a lemon of a product as a whole, but your particular unit was clearly defective beyond that … yeah, you tell ME you wouldn’t occasionally fling that thing across the room or into a cement wall!
But anyhow …
Along comes February, and the insane back-to-back blizzards! While visitations of the various beasts of the snow migration were a wonderful distraction, everybody around me was growing increasingly impatient with the same words constantly bursting from my lips multiple times an hour: “I hate this fucking phone!”
I printed a copy of the blogging I’d done about the Touch Pro, grabbed it, jumped in the truck and made our way across town to once again beg of Ron’s mercies. I handed him the print out and said, “After I leave and you’ve got some dead time on your hands, you ought to give this a read; I think it’ll give you a decent laugh.”
He nodded as he glanced at it. “So, how can I help you two today?”
“Dude, is there anybody that you can call at corporate to put in a good word for us as a preferred customer?”
He shot me a look that almost hinted of, Whatchu talkin’ bout, Willis?
“Dude, after more than ten years as customers and my wife’s insistence that we primarily deal with you? I think that just about makes anyone in my shoes a preferred customer.”
“No,” her interrupted, “no, that wasn’t it at all.”
“So,” I said with an exasperated sigh, “there’s nothing you can do, not even put in a call on our behalf?”
“Naw,” he said as he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “that’s really something that just has to go through corporate.”
We clarified which locations closest to us qualified as “corporate.” He suggested that I go to the one in Ashburn as he’d had some really pleasant dealings with some of the staff there.
As we shook hands and said our goodbyes he added, “Good luck, man. You may have to press the matter pretty hard if you want anything more than an in-kind replacement.”
“If those assholes want to keep my business — and I assure you, our monthly bill is more than ample — then they better do something more than offer me another Touch Pro or even the Pro2. I’d rather step back down to a simple flip-phone, demand a refund for the wasted monthly data-plan charges, and give that to my son until my contract is up and just go get an iPhone.”
He nodded sympathetically as he tapped on the print-out I’d handed him earlier, “And I promise to give this a read! See ya at Spanky’s some time, alright?”
“I look forward to it,” I said with a smile, “you know where to find to me!”
He chuckled, “By that stupid video golf game!”
“Yes,” I smiled even bigger, “the claws of the monkey that is that adult video crack machine are dug deeply into my soul.”
Some days later I reached my absolute and final boiling point with this phone. This time it was a solo venture. Being as irritable and as driven as a I was to finally get this situation resolved, regardless of the outcome, I thought it was best if I didn’t have my wife’s sensibilities and her distaste for public confrontation to interfere with the divine mission which was mine to undertake.
As I pulled in to the parking lot of the strip center within which the corporate Verizon Wireless was located, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a brief moment. Politeness, directness and calm were the order of the day. All the same, visions of a massive pyre and Viking warriors chanting at the tops of their lungs filled my mind.
I opened my eyes quickly so as to not drift too far astray with in imaginations.
As I walked into the store, I was greeted by two young ladies seated at small receptionist station-like stations. The younger one shot me a broad smile and the lady who actually greeted me directly seemed to not be having a great start to her day. She asked tersely but politely, “How may I help you, sir?”
“I really need to talk to somebody about this phone.” I gently set it on the counter in front of her.
The younger lady, to her left, leaned over and asked as she curled her nose, “Touch Pro?”
My left eyelid twitched a few times, “Yeah,” I said as politely as I could, “seems like you’re familiar with it.”
She shook her head back and forth as she raised her hand and with a smile said, “I’m not even getting started.”
I turned my attention to the lady who was waiting to assist me and went on to try and describe why this thing was not only a defective unit, but possibly the most evil thing to have cursed humanity in centuries.
She finally interrupted me, “I’m sorry, sir. You’re going to need to talk to someone in tech. Someone will call your name in a few minutes.”
As I stepped aside it suddenly occurred to me that this woman had probably pressed some sort of panic button to inform the manager on duty that a possibly irate customer was in the building. If they had a special, emergency-use-only button for the potential “postal” types, I’d imagined that that was the once she chose to press instead.
I took another slow, deep breath to once again regain my focus.
And I made the mistake of closing my eyes again …
A young man’s voice brought me back to the store / present reality, “Good morning, sir!”
I blinked my eyes a few times to shake the images out of the frontal lobe. “And a good morning to you, dude. Are you the tech guy that I’m waiting to talk with about this … this … phone.”
He shook his head, “Oh, nossir, I work with the Fios side of things here. I’d overheard you say you were in the process of moving … ?”
With a grin and a nod I cut him off, “Actually, we’re very, very happy Fios customers and — lucky me — the place we’re moving to is already wired for Fios.”
Alex — I believe that was his name, but it might have been Adam — continued to chat for a few minutes about some of the really cool new features and upgrades that Fios had recently began to roll out. As we were talking I heard my name being called from behind me, albit slightly mispronounced as usual.
It’s a stupidly simple Hungarian name, I’m surprised it gets mangled as often as it does.
Anyhow … as I turned around, I was somewhat disappointed to have gone from dealing with such a pleasant, broad smiled young man to being greeted by a perfect sour-puss of a mildly effeminate young man. Seated to his left was a young black man who, as I would learn, was recently employed by Flextronics and was under the tutelage of my fussy little tech support representative.
“My name is Shea, what seems to be the problem with your phone?”
I went on to re-explain to him the same things I had been enumerating to the young lady I was first greeted by. He was perfectly disinterested in hearing me out and continually interrupted me. The third time he interrupted he simply said, “Sir, if you would like me to take a look at it, it sounds like it easily qualifies for a replacement.”
“I realize that, Shea. I am fully and unquestionably aware that this particular unit is defective. Have you worked here for very long?”