Dear Kindle

Dear Kindle,

I know this wasn’t what you expected.  Way back when you were just a shiny group of components, all shiny and new and eager to give some upwardly mobile young person the gift of digital bookery, you had thoughts of your future.  You were destined to be stuffed in a messenger bag and cycled to the local coffee shop for some fair-trade.  To sit beside some similarly slim and sleek electronic devices on a home-office desk.  To be fitted into a specially-made cover with a light, and to glow gently in your loft apartment in the middle of the night.  Those were your hopes and dreams.  But it didn’t quite turn out that way, did it?

I can see that no one ever thought you would be doing this.  I know this, because you aren’t hiding your unhappiness very well.  I have to admit, I’ve never seen the sheath on an electronic cord shed that way.

I feel prickly.

It was pretty impressive.  Like an old sheepdog on a summer’s day.  Lucky for me, I had a spare cord, so I no longer have to get zapped every time I walk by while you are charging.

But this, this I take issue with.  Erik also has a Kindle.  Technically it was mine for about five minutes before he stole it, but let’s not quibble.  You are the same model as Erik’s Kindle.  Both 3G + wireless.  And yet, you refuse to get a signal.

It's gone, daddy, gone; the love is gone.

Look at that.  Side by side: Erik’s Kindle has four bars; you have nothing.  Why is that?  Even tech support’s magic codes didn’t reset you.  I have to tell you, this little pout isn’t going to land you a better spot via craigslist.  You are stuck with me and my salt water, baby, and you’d better learn to love it.  Even if I have to search out wireless nodes and put you on top of them to force you to admit a signal exists, you are going to download my books.  I’m a motivated disciplinarian.  And I’m guessing, Kindle, you don’t want to get passed on to the girls.  They are big readers, and those books get well-loved.  I use a lot of scotch tape.

You don’t want that.

I hope we understand each other.

Yours most sincerely,

Amy