Reading the Manual

Few of us ever take the time to even just thumb through the manuals of the complex products we bring into our homes, and the logic behind that decision (or lack thereof) is quite simple. Though they attempt to explain the myriad of functions packed into these devices, they are quiet intimidating. They have grown into encyclopedia-sized texts that dwarf the item itself. For instance, even the abridged manuals for our cell phones are at least twice as big as the actual phone. Add to that how complexly they are worded and how resistant we are to appearing weak, and there is no way you would expect them to be read. That last part counts double for men. I mean, if we are resistant to stop and ask for directions when travelling to unfamiliar destinations, why would we ever consider asking a piece of paper for help in operating a simple television? We assume, in time, we will figure it all out and prove our metal. 

I can't lie and say I don't fall into that attitude. I navigate the menus, and, through a proven system of trial-and-error, I eventually make it work. Well, sometimes, I discover a function that I didn't even know the device had, and it makes me wish I had taken the time to read the manual. I would have felt incompetent at the time, but I would have enjoyed that function that much longer. Yesterday was just one of those times. I was scrolling through the menus to reset the clock on my TV and found something labeled "USB Media". That piqued my interest. Could my TV truly be capable of playing files stored on a thumb drive? Could they have packed that much computing power into a TV that is less than half an inch deep? There was only one way to find out, and you can bet it didn't involve reading the manual. So, I loaded up a few videos onto a thumb drive, found the USB slot on the back of my TV, and attempted to watch them. Success! The TV played the files with no issue, and the video quality was superb. I was excited about having this new knowledge, but how had I gone so long without noticing it? I mean, I have had this TV for almost a year, and, considering how much I put into it and how technologically advanced it appeared to be, I couldn't believe I hadn't even considered looking through the functions. I was excited and pleased, but, at the same time, I also felt slightly ashamed. I had accepted the macho mentality of ignoring manuals, and it had failed me.

What did I realize? 

I realized two things. First, I realized that I should take more time to analyze and explore the gadgets I buy. I'm not saying that I intend to read the manual. That's an emergency measure. What I'm saying is that, in the future, I will at least research (online or with a salesperson) or extensively explore and test the products I purchase. Second, I learned that manufacturers have to cram more and more functions, more than any one person could ever need, into smaller and smaller gadgets just to make it enticing. We are a little spoiled, and, if it's not pushing the envelope and the newest and most powerful product, what would make us want it more than what we already have? I'm definitely not saying they should stop this trend. I'm a huge fan of technology, and I enjoy getting to live in a world that is so quick to advance and make it seem as if there is no technological frontier. It's like what I think of the galaxy. We keep thinking there can't be much else out there, but someone dares to push out a little further, and we have to adjust. The presumed boundary gets pushed further away, and we start to doubt there is even a boundary. Kudos, inventors! Please keep it coming. 

Now, I'm going to enjoy some of their technological handy-work and watch another episode of "The Walking Dead".