The line on my iPad shows the progress of the latest iOS software update. I, however, consider it a flatline. No, my iPad has not died . . . but my efficiency has.
These updates are always touted as improvement, and yet all these advancements seemingly move us in the wrong direction. Backwards.
I have not done an update on my iPad for over a year and a half. I keep my iPhone current; I don’t use it nearly as much as my iPad due to my visual impairment. As I watched each rollout upset my iPhone Apple cart, I resolved to hold out as long as I could on my iPad.
In the last month, though, I made a vow to myself and my tablet that I would soon bring it up to date. The notifications I kept receiving about new software updates felt more urgent, more hostile. Of course, this interpretation was caused by my personal guilt and not an escalation by the folks in Cupertino.
A few days ago I bit the bullet, pressed a few prompts and watched life as I know it disappear. Again.
So many of my legally blind actions are a result of memorization: the timer button on the microwave, the TV remote (I don’t even look at it, I just know where the buttons are located). Eighty-percent of what I do on my iPad – and I do a lot – is done without seeing because I have learned where text, fields, apps and arrows are found. When you update all of that, you outdate everything. And none of us, sighted or not, need the chaos.
And now I have pulled my own plug on all of that.
There will be resuscitation, but it will not be a miracle. It will be born of anger, resentment and a few colorful words along the way.
I love you, Apple. You have changed my life for the good. Yet with every software update, I don’t like you very much.
#SisterRain #ALittleSightALotOfHeart #LegallyBlindWriter #HumanInterest #Life #LifeIsGood #LifeStories #Storytelling #Apple #SoftwareUpdates
