Credit where it’s due
I’ve had my share of dodginess in internet transactions, so I thought it was worth making a note of an instance where shopping online proved to be wholly excellent. So here’s the story of how I bought a new battery for my PDA. If your eyes are glazing over at this point, please feel free to stop reading.
This PDA that I do much of my writing on is an old Compaq iPaq 3650. It was one of the earlier generations of devices with a full colour backlit LCD screen and various multimedia stuff, running the PocketPC operating system which provides pretty good integration with Microsoft Office. The screen is quite big for a handheld gadget, and while it could use some extra pixels (it has 240×320, which is still pretty common in current model PDAs and smartphones), I don’t think I’ve seen any other screen on a portable devices which is as bright, crisp and clear. It’s about five years old now.
Although the thing was supposedly capable of lots of different tricks - recording voice messages and playing mp3’s and games and this and that - I’ve found myself using it in fairly basic ways. I write text, using a Stowaway foldup keyboard, when I’m out and about. I use it as my diary, integrating with Outlook on the desktop PC. And I synchronise my email inbox to it, so that I always have my last month or so’s emails on hand in case of emergency (these emergencies usually take the form of “I did bring the address for this gig with me, didn’t I?”)
I seldom connect it to the internet, although it’s theoretically possible to do it through the mobile (at a blazing 9600bps). It has no bluetooth, no wi-fi, no built-in camera. Now and then I’ll write an email on it, if I need to get something down while I think of it, and it sends automatically when I plug it into the cradle at home. I never use it for mp3’s or voice recordings, not least because the sound system shat itself somewhere along the line and it doesn’t seem to work any more, but I didn’t really use those features even when I had the chance. I use the infra-red port to send SMS’es now and then, if I want to compose something long and make the most of the 160 characters (since fully-fledged txtspk is annoyingly fiddly to type into a mobile keypad when you’re used to predictive text).
The biggest trouble with it, a problem that it shares in common with most early-generation gadgets, was the battery. To begin with, the battery could get through a day’s work reasonably reliably. I used to be able to go to a couple of two-hour lectures in a day and type notes with the backlight on and never have to worry too much about it expiring. The data doesn’t get lost just because the main battery goes flat - it does have a backup - but there’s a rule of gadgetry that says that if you have to think about the battery running flat, then you’ll never really be able to integrate the gadget into your life. That was the case with this device - each time I pulled it out and turned it on, I had to have in mind the limited number of hours that I could afford to have it running for. If I opted to read an e-book (something else I occasionally use it for) during my lunch hour, then I might not get through the afternoon lecture. When that sort of stuff starts to happen, the gadget stops being an aid to living and becomes an impediment - something else to worry about.
As the years went by, the battery (an internal, rechargeable type, along the lines of the iPod batteries which are supposedly not user-replaceable, about which more later) started to struggle more and more. During the last eighteen months or so, the backlight became a non-option, meaning that I could only use it in well-lit areas (fortunately, the reflective LCD screen is great to use in bright light, but dimly-lit writing spots were a no-no). Eventually, even turning the device on with the backlight enabled would prompt an immediate shutdown - I had to plug the thing back into the charger so that I could have time to turn off the backlight. Then, inevitably, it stopped charging altogether.
I wasn’t very optimistic about my chances of replacing the battery. Styluses for this model had long since vanished from the shop shelves, and are difficult to track down even online. I’d read that it was possible to replace the battery, despite the official line that it wasn’t user-replaceable (what a great idea - make what was then a thousand-dollar gadget which becomes unusable after five years), but I fully expected to have to get one sent over from the US. I thought that it might be time to upgrade to something newer and better, but I was hesitant because I have no money, and also because there’s no guarantee that all those extra bells and whistles would actually be worth me having. I’ve found some really good uses for this device, and left lots of its capabilities unused, and I wasn’t convinced that the new features would fit into the “must have” basket instead of the “whatever” basket. I like the form factor of this thing, the screen is great, I know how to use it, and I own the foldup keyboard (which is a significant extra expense in itself - I would have had to have bought a new one if I’d changed to a different PDA or smartphone, because the connections are not interchangeable). So I got online and looked for a new battery.
To my surprise, there was a place in Sydney that was advertising them, Press Digital. I’d heard that the batteries often shipped with the Torx screwdriver that you need to get the back off the iPaq, and the catalogue entry didn’t mention whether one was included with this particular battery, so I pressed the contact link. Immediately, a window came up saying that a support person was being paged so that I could chat directly. The page timed out, as it happened, but I thought it was a nifty idea if there had been someone around to take the call. That sort of immediate communication is what is often lacking in online businesses - whenever I send an email asking for help, I’m half expecting it to go unanswered. In this case, I was redirected through to a form which I filled out with my question, and I got an email response within ten minutes. The screwdriver was included, and I was all set to go (total price about $60 including postage, less than I’d been expecting). I placed the order.
That evening, I got both an SMS message and an email to let me know that the package had been shipped. The next day, it was on my doorstep, boxed up in nice packaging which even included a complimentary chocolate (I kid you not).
Installation was simple - the battery itself is a flat plastic package filled with noxious smelling chemicals (I know this because I cut the old one up with a pair of scissors out of curiosity) with some charging circuitry printed on a plastic ribbon, the end of which plugs into the main circuit board of the PDA itself. The battery is glued to the back cover of the unit - the old one detached pretty easily - and there are also little plastic corners to hold it in place. I didn’t bother regluing it - the combination of the existing remnants of sticky stuff, the retaining corners and the tight fit with the rest of the electronics should keep it safely in place, I think.
The added bonus was that the new battery has a lot more capacity than the old one had, even in its heyday. The original battery was about 1000 mAh, whereas the new one was advertised as 1600mAh. When it arrived, the packaging said 2200mAh, so I don’t know which figure is correct, but I can tell you that in three or four weeks of quite intensive use, I haven’t yet seen the battery indicator dip below 100%. I suppose that the battery indicator was calibrated to the discharge curve of the original battery, so the 100% figure doesn’t mean anything in relation to the new battery, except to say that the voltage hasn’t fallen below the maximum it expected of the old one, and that’s good news. I can now use the thing as much as I like, in full backlit glory, and even if I forget to plug it in when I get home, I can still use it as much as I like the next day. This makes a serious usability difference - knowing that I can pull the thing out any time I like and turn it on without even thinking about how much battery power is left. It’s much like the difference between the early-generation mobile phones, where running low on batteries was just a constant annoyance, and the new ones which only need to be plugged in every week or so and otherwise just work without any complaint whatsoever. We’ve become used to not thinking about battery life, but I can still remember carrying around a spare battery for my first mobile that weighed best part of a kilogram (note: this is an exaggeration) and only just enabled me to get through a long day if I didn’t do too much actual talking.
Anyway, this wasn’t supposed to be a rave about how poor batteries ruined my life. It was supposed to be pointing out the excellence of the mob who sold me this new battery, and how there should be more of it. If more online businesses were as customer-focused, then I’m sure that a lot of the suspicion that still lingers around shopping online would just evaporate.