It’s my own fault, but that doesn’t make it easier

By Larry Persily

I use a tablet to read newspapers. It started maybe a decade ago, when an increasing number of national newspapers stopped shipping their print editions to Alaska. I am addicted to reading papers, so I dropped my resistance to the electronic world and bought a tablet.

Of course, before that, I let my cheapness get the better of me and insisted on reading newspapers on my laptop, balancing the heavy, expensive piece of electronics while riding an exercise bike. Thankfully, I realized that was stupid before I dropped the laptop.

I learned to love my lightweight tablet. Not as much as chocolate-chunk cookies, but a different kind of love.

Then I dropped the tablet and shattered the screen. I wasn’t even on the bike; I was in the waiting room for my Anchorage cardiologist and it fell out of my hand. That may explain why my blood pressure tested high when I finally got in to see the doc.

I figured, no problem, I’ll just go to Best Buy and get the exact same tablet I had bought there several years ago. No need to change, which is my motto in electronic life. 

As you would expect, that tablet model was no longer made. I think the sales clerk sensed the look of panic on my face, went into the back room and returned with a smile to say they had a refurbished return of the very same model I wanted. I happily took home the replacement. No need to read a new owners manual or learn new clicks or even buy a new charger or cover. My life could continue without change for several more years.

But then, as often happens with happy stories, it took a sad turn. I dropped the tablet last weekend. This time, while actually riding the bike. It was dead.

I sighed, made sure I had my credit card, and went back to Best Buy, but not until I had called and checked online every store in Anchorage. I wanted an eight-inch tablet, not one of the 11-inch models that are big enough to serve as a dinner plate — too much to hold and too easy to drop. Nothing was available.

As I drove, I hoped that Best Buy might have another refurbished or returned older model of my size that needed a new home.

The clerk, who knew a lot more about electronics than me, was very polite and said they don’t stock returned and refurbished goods anymore. And although the store had a nine-inch tablet on display, they did not have it in stock — and would not sell me the floor model.

I wasn’t making it any easier on the clerk when I said I don’t want an Apple product (I always root against No. 1), nor do I want an Amazon tablet (which forces you to watch ads across your screen unless you pay extra to go ad free).

The smallest, least expensive tablet they had in stock was an 11-inch model. But they did not have one on display and would not pull one out of stock and open the package for me to look at it unless I bought it.

I bought it, read the owners manual (online, since there was no printed copy with the tablet), and think I can manage.

What started years ago because I couldn’t find a printed Wall Street Journal ended with an answer that has no printed manual. It’s my own fault for resisting change.

• Larry Persily is the publisher of the Wrangell Sentinel, which first published this article.