Truth in Advertising – Apple Macintosh

Have you seen the industrial for the new Macintosh — the only one with the two-men status in huge cardboard containers? The more youthful, greater lively man, manifestly a Mac, jumps out of his carton, prepared to get to paintings. The PC man or woman, looking at a chunk chagrined, stays in his container. He cannot begin until he gets some extra software program and another device. So unhappy.

“And so no longer authentic,” my daughter tells me. She bought a Dell, which came with all the software programs she ordered, and changed into truly ready right out of the box. No waiting. No additional gadget. No trouble. She uses it 10 minutes after it arrives.

I, then again, changed into now not. I took my suitable new iMac out of the box and plugged it in, but I had no idea what to do. The PC did come with lots of software programs (iTunes, iCal, iPhoto, iDVD, iMovie, iChat, Garage Band, something that is, and something that made little widgets fly all over my screen). However, I did not need that. I needed to open my antique documents, which I could not do because the laptop didn’t have the programs I had been using and wouldn’t use the packages I did have. It seemed I might want a new software program, which cost more than the hardware.

I can be a dyed-in-the-wool Mac individual. However, I’m also technologically impaired. I called my Mac guru at once. Seven-and-a-half hours and $three hundred later, he had transferred all of my files to the new iMac, linked me to my e-mail company, imported my bookmarks and deal with book, hooked up a king’s ransom in software, and given me a fast tour of OS X. “You need to take a direction on this operating machine,” he suggested.

OK, that was costly; however, it was worth it, I think. It was a touch more complex than the economy suggested; however, I was purposeful. That’s what counted. Well, no, no longer right. It might have mattered if I had been intended, but I wasn’t. Since my zip and jazz disks would not paint with the iMac, I needed an external hard power to return my files. So, I ordered one online, was given a lemon, returned it, got another lemon, lowered it, and subsequently bought one for two times as much money at the Apple store. That took three weeks.

At a minimum, I had Windows or some other Mac commercial. My new iMac was additionally a PC with an Intel chip. Pretty excellent, huh? That’s what I thought. But I turned into incorrect. The iMac did not come with Windows. I might have to buy it if I wanted it, as well as an application that allowed me to interchange backward and forward between OS X and Windows. More money; extra problem. I decided to forgo Windows.

The exact news was that I changed into going to get a $179 rebate on my iPod, which, pretty clearly, I would by no means have ordered; however, it had included the computer. By this time, I must have predicted the system to be more complicated than advertised. I needed information from the UPC label on the unique carton to get my rebate. Unfortunately, I had thrown out the carton because I could not keep it.

The Apple representative reluctantly agreed to fax me a shape, but because neither my fax system nor my fax software program worked with the brand new iMac, I had to have it despatched to Kinko’s. There is a great deal greater to this story. However, the point is that after three months, four telephone calls, and numerous pieces of mail, I still have not obtained the rebate.

What mattered most became that I turned into paintings, at remaining — if I failed to count number printing. The new PC did not seem to love my laser printer, which insisted on calling Flash Paper instead of LaserJet 2100 M. Flash Paper had something to do with Macromedia’s DreamWeaver. Nothing made it leave, together with dumping all Macromedia programs in the trash.

I called Apple support. The tech turned baffled and advised me to delete the printer. Then, he despatched me to Macromedia, who was confused and referred me to HP. HP concluded that the computer did not recognize my printer, and because mine was about to die of old age, I must improve to a brand new printer for the handiest $330.

Setting up the printer was supposed to be so easy a baby should do it. Unfortunately, I could not. The PC was nevertheless calling it Flash Paper. I knew it as HP. It appears I did not have the best printer drivers; however, through the magic of an HP Macintosh expert, the iMac eventually recognized the printer, modified its name to HP LaserJet 1320, and managed to remove Flash Paper.

All that remained was to parent out my new software. My Web guru (no longer to be burdened with my Mac guru) came over to tinker with DreamWeaver, which changed into not permitting me to add files to my Web site. After six hours of troubleshooting, she gave up in melancholy. I knew it as Macromedia again.

Macromedia was bought using Adobe, so it became tough to talk to an individual. Through the 1/3 strive, I reached a completely determined DreamWeaver guide character in India. She sooner or later located a space in front of the tough force’s name (don’t inquire from me how it got there). Take out space, rename the tough drive, reenter all of the records, try this, do that, and, poof, I may want to upload files.

Adobe Creative Suite was another problem. Mac’s new Intel chip does not match Adobe merchandise entirely. I stumbled around InDesign for days earlier than I gave up. I did not even attempt Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, or Acrobat. Instead, I signed up for a semester-length route in Adobe Creative Suite. With my senior discount, it was the best $117.

While waiting to begin my course, I fired up an old trustworthy – Microsoft Word – and was returned to work. It was a heady feeling – until … The screen iced up and could no longer unfreeze, regardless of what I did. I broke down and referred to Apple. All Apple representatives were, of course, busy assisting different customers, but my call became vital. At remaining, a completely humorless Mac tech disabled Bluetooth, which I seemingly turned into wireless.

Apple continues to reveal the Mac guy getting the better antique, befuddled PC, but I do not watch them anymore. I need to jot down the advertising agency that creates the clever advertisements and suggest that the copywriter might need to use the product earlier than his next storyboard. I need to ship a registered letter to Steve Jobs describing my experience in brilliant detail. I need to post this piece to PC World, publish it on the Internet, and splash it all over my Website. I want to plug in my old, decrepit “blue box” Mac and forget my choice to improve. Worst of all, I want to admit to everyone who uses a PC that they are probably right after all.