Wow, look what just came in the mail today? It’s that new electronic gadget I ordered from Amazon. It’s too complex to explain in the lines of this column, but I’m sure I’ll have no trouble setting it up and getting it to communicate with all my other electronics. I mean, how hard can it be?
This sure is a tiny box. I expected something larger, seeing that there must definitely be a user manual in there, which will give me detailed, step-by-step instructions in the event I’m baffled. I don’t see the manual when I first open the box but no worries.
I’ll start by unpacking all the, wait a minute, there’s a lot more components in here than I expected. Should I stop and read the manual? No, I’ve seen stuff like this before. Besides, all the reviews said I should be up and running in no time. Who am I to dispute an online review?
Wait, is this the charging port or the USB port? Or both? And do three flashing lights mean it’s totally charged, or do those lights have to go solid? One of them is red. Shouldn’t they all be green? No worries, the manual will tell me. How hard can it be?
Hmmm, is this a spare battery pack or do I need to install this once the device is charged? And do I need to charge the battery pack first? It appears there is some outlet on the pack but which one of the three cords charges it? The white one or the black one? Or the shorter white one?
OK, I’ve got it. It’s fully charged. I knew this wouldn’t be that difficult. I’ll just turn it on and, wait, it’s not rotating. Nor is it pivoting. It’s supposed to pivot. That’s why I bought it in the first place. There must be an easy solution.
I guess it’s time to read the manual. But the only thing left in the box is this tiny leaflet. That can’t possibly be it, can it? I mean, the writing on the front page is so small, I’ll have to use the magnifier feature on my iPhone just to see that it does in fact say, “user manual.”
But as long as I hold the manual under a powerful light, while continuing to use the magnifier, all my questions should be answered. The manufacturer will explain, in words, how to use this amazing device. Right?
Wrong. Because, like every product sold today that requires at least an iota of setup on the owner’s part, manufacturers have elected to stop using words. In this case, all I see is a diagram of the device and a bunch of arrows pointing to various parts. Each arrow has a corresponding number identifying what that part is. I know number eight is the “zoom slider,” while 13 is the “pan motor,” which looks remarkably similar to 14, the “roll motor.”
I have no idea what any of these features do, nor how to activate them. Page two of the manual, the last page by the way, shows arrows drawn in half circles. I guess that’s supposed to represent the pivot, right?
Why have detailed user manuals gone the way of rotary phones and the Blackberry? Is it because manufacturers realize somebody is always willing, via Google, to explain whatever product we purchased? Once my headache subsided from squinting at my product’s leaflet/manual, I did in fact find Andrew on YouTube.
Andrew already knew how to operate my device, as he was smiling into the camera while holding it. Thankfully, he showed me how to work the pan motor and all the other features, even though I had to pause the video multiple times while trying to mimic his movements and instructions.
Now Christmas is less than eight weeks away and I’m wondering if I should delete all the electronic toys I’ve added to my wish list, for fear I will spend the entire day cursing at manufacturers who refuse to explain the inner workings of their products. I should probably just ask for a good pair of slippers.
I already know how to work those.
