My Low Ipod IQ
At the Outerbanks (NC) -- myself, my partner, my mother, and my sister's Ipod.
We are playing a game, and we decide to listen to some music, Mary Chapin Carpenter. But its too loud. We just want to turn it down. We can't figure it out. We stare at the contraption for minutes at a time between turns. My sister is out somewhere, so she's not around to ask.
I know it has to be something easy, and a PHYSICAL component -- because my little nephew who is not even two was somehow turning up the volume the day before. So I run my hands over every square inch of it. I don't notice anything. They're both looking at the electronic UI, but I know that can't possibly be it.
As usual, I'm right about the negatives ("it can't be").
The little silver - and + buttons look like little screws, positioned in locations that could plausibly be holding the thing together. My subconscious mind had quite effectively tuned them out as being little screws that I probably don't want to mess with. Just like experienced websurfers are programmed to tune out the page headers.
None of us saw those buttons, despite boggling over it for a good 10 minutes each. We ended up turning the music off, and doing without. Of course, we all felt quite stupid when the plain simple truth was pointed out.
We are playing a game, and we decide to listen to some music, Mary Chapin Carpenter. But its too loud. We just want to turn it down. We can't figure it out. We stare at the contraption for minutes at a time between turns. My sister is out somewhere, so she's not around to ask.
I know it has to be something easy, and a PHYSICAL component -- because my little nephew who is not even two was somehow turning up the volume the day before. So I run my hands over every square inch of it. I don't notice anything. They're both looking at the electronic UI, but I know that can't possibly be it.
As usual, I'm right about the negatives ("it can't be").
The little silver - and + buttons look like little screws, positioned in locations that could plausibly be holding the thing together. My subconscious mind had quite effectively tuned them out as being little screws that I probably don't want to mess with. Just like experienced websurfers are programmed to tune out the page headers.
None of us saw those buttons, despite boggling over it for a good 10 minutes each. We ended up turning the music off, and doing without. Of course, we all felt quite stupid when the plain simple truth was pointed out.