This manual is 4 pages long. No joke. And in English, French and Spanish, for good measure.
This reminds me...on my recent flight to CA, I read this great article about manuals in the Southwest magazine, written by our very own James Lileks. Hilarious.
Sadly, there are days when I could use such instructions. You can typically tell which days by counting the coffee stains on my shirt and, sometimes, trousers.
And who says “trousers” any more? I used to think I'd be embarrassed by my father when he reached his dotage, but since he's 750 miles away is it acceptable to be embarrassed for myself as I approach mine?
And I'll bet, in spite of the instructions, it never addresses the issue of preventing the dang thing from dribbling down a cream-colored blouse on your way to a job interview.
(My iPod didn't come with instructions. For a month I thought it was broken because I couldn't get it to do anything. Luckily I have my son "fixed" it -- by turning it on. I didn't think they turned off and on. I won't even go into the text feature on my phone...)
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Sadly, there are days when I could use such instructions. You can typically tell which days by counting the coffee stains on my shirt and, sometimes, trousers.
And who says “trousers” any more? I used to think I'd be embarrassed by my father when he reached his dotage, but since he's 750 miles away is it acceptable to be embarrassed for myself as I approach mine?
And I'll bet, in spite of the instructions, it never addresses the issue of preventing the dang thing from dribbling down a cream-colored blouse on your way to a job interview.
(My iPod didn't come with instructions. For a month I thought it was broken because I couldn't get it to do anything. Luckily I have my son "fixed" it -- by turning it on. I didn't think they turned off and on. I won't even go into the text feature on my phone...)
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