
Let’s get the claim chowder out of the way. Remember how I said – not once, but twice – that I wasn’t going to preorder a watch?
I preordered a watch. The 42mm Space Gray Apple Watch Sport. I did so when I woke up at around seven Friday morning, and the watch is due to ship in June.
I’m a weak, weak man. Erin is both shaking her head in disgust and laughing at how predictable I am.
Today I had my try-on appointment. I had previously crashed Joel and Steff Housmans’ appointments, so I knew what I was in for. Though I got to see and touch the ones he tried on, I had never had an Apple Watch on my wrist before.
Today, I was in a bit of a rush – a friend was in from Florida and with us, so I didn’t want to bore him. I was able to try on a few combinations:
- 42mm Stainless Steel Watch with Link Bracelet
- 42mm Stainless Steel Watch with Milanese Loop
- 42mm Stainless Steel Watch with Bright Blue Leather Loop
- 42mm Space Gray Aluminum Sport with Black Sport Band – the one I preordered.
- 38mm Space Gray Aluminum Sport with Black Sport Band
Additionally, I handled the:
- 38mm Silver Aluminum Sport with White Sport Band
- 38mm Stainless Steel Watch with Soft Pink Modern Buckle
First and foremost, Erin was quick to tell me that the 42mm was the right size for me. I’d say I have small wrists for a man, but I feel like every guy I know is saying that, so perhaps I’m wrong. Regardless, since I wear a 38mm watch every day, I was surprised that the 42mm felt and looked so at home on my wrist.
I liked the Link Bracelet, but it was noticeably heavy. Additionally, it was way too big on the sample watch. That’s really unfortunate, as with fewer links in it, the fit would have been much better and the weight may have been more comfortable. I tried to smartly nudge the Apple employee into taking out a link or two – “These links are easy to remove, right?” – but he didn’t bite. In the end, it struck me as a traditional link bracelet; I’m not sure from wearing nor seeing it what makes it as magical as Apple claims. Nor do I see how it justifies its $450 price tag.
All of you who say it’s a band for old men are crazy. Sure it may look traditional, but I don’t think it would look out of place on any man nor woman, of any age.
While I don’t dislike the Leather Loop as much as Marco did, I definitely agree that it did not feel like leather to me. I also didn’t care for the bumpiness of it. In fact, I think Stephen nailed it:
I was less impressed with the Leather Loop. It’s very clearly a thin wrapping around a bunch of magnets. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as soft as I was guessing it would be.
I really liked the Milanese Loop. I felt like it was easy to get on and off, and looked good. However, it felt natural to leave it just a touch loose, which probably isn’t the right idea for the purposes of heart rate monitoring. Despite that, money no object, I think the Milanese was my favorite.
For the Sport Band, I had heard some rumblings that not all colors felt the same. Since I was curious, I tried on my preorder, which, um, sports a black Sport band. I then asked to simply hold the white band. Erin and I both agreed that there was a clear difference in texture between them. I vastly preferred the feel of the black; in fact, it felt really awesome, just as Gruber said. I did not try any of the other Sport bands.
I echo Marco’s sentiments about it:
I also found it very annoying and cumbersome to attach — it seems designed for people with three hands.
I am sure that with a little practice I could get very adept at it, but it was nowhere near the ease of the Milanese Loop. Additionally, I’d say it was harder to clasp than my everyday watch’s classic buckle. However, I am confident with time it would be a non-issue. I didn’t have it on long enough to consider how sweaty it would make me. I’m actually more concerned about that than about the difficulty in putting it on.
The store didn’t have my beloved 42mm Space Black Link Bracelet available for try-on. I left the Housmans’ try-on really disappointed with the look of it. I was hoping for a really deep black, but it was more of a deep gray. Seeing it in the display case again, in different light, I liked the look more, but I remain surprisingly indifferent to it.
The most striking thing about my visit was that Erin seemed completely dissatisfied with any of the obviously feminine options. I agree with her. The Pink Sport Band is actually a salmon color. The Pink Modern Buckle was closer to cream than pink. All the others are either unisex or seemingly masculine.
This is a huge miss for Apple. For a device that they’ve marketed as their “most personal device ever”, they’ve left disappointingly few options for women who like traditionally feminine colors, such as pink. I’m disappointed, in no small part because I suspect that if I had an Apple Watch and Erin didn’t, I’d miss out on a lot of the cool more intimate features.
I also played with the demo unit again, briefly. This one seemed far more responsive than the one I used with the Housmans. I don’t understand all the grumbling about the way the Apple Watch user interface works. It isn’t an iPhone, so it doesn’t work like an iPhone. That’s okay. I already feel reasonably adept at the basic operations, and am not confused by when to use the Digital Crown, when to use the side button, where to find glances and notifications. The user experience I found to be easy to master if not easy to grasp.
This time, expectations lowered, I left thinking to myself this thing is cool. I liked the look of it when I had my preorder on my wrist. I like the thought of being able to piddle with the complications on the watch face until I get them just right. I like the idea of being able to figure out if something asking for my attention is important by quickly glancing at my wrist.
The problem that remains is the second thought I’ve had since I’ve left. The thought that keeps niggling at the back of my mind, and is louder than “oooh shiny!”:
What is this going to do for me that I can’t do already?
I haven’t found a good answer to that question.
The Apple Watch strikes me as the next great frontier. In much the same way putting a computer with a built-in GPS in our pocket opened whole new doors, I suspect the Apple Watch will eventually do the same. I see that this is the future. I don’t doubt it.
But is it worth spending, at a minimum, $400 today?
I’m unconvinced.
Sitting here now, I’m on the edge of canceling my preorder. The only thing that’s stopping me is Apple’s 14-day return policy – why not just keep it and try it for a week or two? Furthermore, one could argue I have an obligation to try it for the show, if only for a little while.
I can’t help but think one final thought though: If I’m justifying this purchase with “meh, I can always return it…”, is it really worth buying in the first place?
Richard J. Anderson writes:
There’s nothing wrong with liking the crazy, fancy stuff us geeks like. We can’t control our obsessions, but we can control how we communicate them to others. Smug superiority gets us nowhere.
Richard is completely right. Why look down on someone because they use an Android phone, or because they don’t use a fountain pen, or because they don’t use amazing headphones, or don’t drink fussy coffee, or don’t have a clicky keyboard, or don’t drink fizzy water? No good comes of it, other than making yourself out to be a jerk.
I’m as guilty of this as the next nerd, though I am actively trying to stop doing that to people.
Back to Richard’s article, I was amused to see myself cited as an example of such behavior. Earlier in his article:
It’s not hard to extend this to other geeky obsessions with quality: fussy coffee prepared fussily, artisanal notebooks and fountain pens, perfectly clear ice cubes for your cocktails, high-end audio equipment, and fancy bags for carrying all your fancy [💩] around.
I can understand citing me as an example here. But it’s important to remember how I ended that post about the wonderful Neat Ice Kit:
At the end of the day, I’m unconvinced that making my drinks with this fussy ice makes them taste any better. But the ceremony of forming the ice in advance, then splitting it when I want my drink, is really enjoyable. It’s rather silly and a bit of a waste of time, and I love it.
This is me not being a jerk about it. I’m saying that while I enjoy the ceremony of the Neat Ice Kit, I acknowledge that really, it’s silly. And that’s okay.
I do, however, take umbrage at what Richard said about cameras:
When I read articles defending the purchase of fancy cameras, there’s a recurring mantra of “you’ll regret it when your kids grow up and all you have are cell phone pictures.” I don’t know about other people in my age group, but I remember growing up with albums of badly exposed 35mm prints from point-and-shoot film cameras. My parents didn’t mind, and I doubt the parents of most other people my age minded either.
Richard is completely missing the point here.
The reason that no one complained about “badly exposed 35mm prints” is because that was the best (or at the least, most approachable) option at the time, short of spending serious money on a camera body and lenses. Today, one can spend comparatively little money and get a camera setup that is, in my estimation, vastly superior to the iPhone camera.
As someone who just bought a semi-fancy camera for this very reason, I can tell you that I could not possibly be more happy that I did. While I absolutely can take acceptable shots using my iPhone, I much prefer the results from the Olympus. The shots are unequivocally better. I say that as someone who does not have a strong artistic eye.
I have not and will not regret spending the money on a nice camera to know that (within reason) I have the best possible photographs I can of our little boy. That is not only money well spent, but it’s an insurance policy against future regret.

I’ve been a happy, if occasional, Apple Pay user since I got my iPhone 6 shortly after launch. I don’t frequent many places that accept Apple Pay, and as such, have only been able to use it a couple times. Generally speaking, that’s been at Babies 'R Us, because baby.
A month or two ago Erin and I made a trip to Babies 'R Us in order to get some supplies. As usual, I was all excited with myself and anxious to use Apple Pay. At this point, I had only been able to use it a few times — including once or twice at that Babies 'R Us. When I attempted to pay with my phone this time, I was declined. This made an already-semi-awkward social encounter even more awkward, so I quickly grabbed for my physical credit card and swiped it.
Swiping my card worked no problem, which was slightly curious, since it was the same card that I had just attempted to use via Apple Pay. Yes, I know, the numbers are different and it isn’t exactly the same card, but at a glance they should either both work or not.
I thought it was a small hiccup and moved on, with an only marginally damaged customer sat.
This past weekend, Erin and I were trying to grab lunch at Whole Foods. Having not tried Apple Pay at Whole Foods, I was anxious to give it a shot. When I did, I was declined again. Passbook showed the message pictured above. I reached for my physical card again, disappointed.
The cashier then stepped in and provided a critical piece of information:
“Oh, it looks like your card is expired.”
ಠ_ಠ
Thinking back, I remember that my physical card had just been replaced in the last couple months. In fact, it was just before the failed Babies 'R Us experience. Suddenly everything makes sense.
However, were it not for the friendly Whole Foods cashier, I never would have known the
card stored in Apple Pay had expired. There was no messaging to that effect. All I was
told was that I was DECLINED
.
To be clear, it’s on me to have forgotten to update Apple Pay when I got a new card. Nevertheless, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect some more informative messaging from Apple about why I was declined.
I’m assuming that such information is possible with contactless payment terminals. Perhaps not. Either way, this is a small, yet surprising, miss.
UPDATED 2015-04-01 9:45 AM: For Apple people, filed radar #20381783.
“I donated my son’s eyes to your lab,” she said on the phone. “Can I come by for a tour?”
The receptionist said she had never had such a request. “I’m not sure who to transfer you to,” she said, “but don’t hang up!”
This is an absolutely wonderful story. For me, it was doubly heartwarming, as our family has also had to deal with anencephaly in the past.
(Link via Michael B. Johnson)
Chris Harris, a popular automotive journalist in his own right, on how Top Gear’s evolution away from facts and toward entertainment paved the way for his show:
And I cannot say how thankful I am that it kind of became less about cars over time because in doing so it gave my little show the oxygen to survive. The only creative rule myself and Neil have ever consistently adhered to is to never try and be TG. Never try to be too funny. Don’t go on adventures. Don’t do anything that could usher you into direct comparison with TG because you will automatically look shit.
On the future of Top Gear:
What comes next? I have no idea. I’ve always struggled to understand how Jeremy could do his thing on a commercially-funded channel. I suppose therein lies the crazy paradox at the center of this whole episode. Jeremy and his pal Andy Wilman turned a car program into a mouthpiece for an entire tranche of middle England fed-up with the nanny state and in search of simple entertainment, but the only place it could flourish was within a quasi-state-funded broadcaster that didn’t have to answer to advertisers, but which is fundamentally left-leaning and against the type of personality Jeremy represents. It would be easy to conclude that they couldn’t live with each other, and that they won’t be able to live without each other.
I joined Jessie Char, John Moltz, and Dan Moren on this week’s Clockwise. With Jason Snell gone in the UK, that gave us the opportunity to finally complete the coup we’ve been dreaming of.
We’re not very good opportunists, so instead of a coup, we did the usual. In my return to Clockwise, we discussed Apple TV, wearables and their potential health risks, and got nostalgic about old software and services.
Today, the BBC has announced that they are not renewing Jeremy Clarkson’s contract after he was involved with a “fracas” with a producer.
Tony Hall, BBC Director-General:
It is with great regret that I have told Jeremy Clarkson today that the BBC will not be renewing his contract. It is not a decision I have taken lightly.
Clarkson is one of three hosts of my favorite TV show, Top Gear. He and producer Andy Wilman are the majority of the creative force behind the show.
It is generally understood that Clarkson was furious that there wasn’t a hot meal waiting for him after a day of filming. He verbally, and then physically, assaulted a producer.
Regardless of his behavior before — which has been mired with issues — Clarkson absolutely deserves to be fired. He punched a coworker, and that is not acceptable.
I can’t help but feel sad devastated at what we’ve lost though.
When I wrote my eulogy to Final Gear — the site that facilitated me downloading Top Gear — late last year, little did I know that in just a few short months I’d be writing this post, eulogizing the show itself.
I wrote then:

It’s become a staple in not only my life, but Erin’s as well. Our Sunday afternoons when the show is in season are scheduled around Top Gear. Moreover, when they were starting new seasons (in UK parlance, a “new series”) in the summertime, Erin and I threw a “Top Gear Party” every year. We would have all our friends over, grill hot dogs and hamburgers, and once the sun went down, watch the show projected onto the back of our house. Our summers were largely defined by when Top Gear was starting again.
It is impossible to overstate how much the show meant to me. In many ways, when Top Gear was airing new episodes, my life was scheduled around it. Crazy as that may be, it’s the truth. That’s how much enjoyment the show gave me. I wouldn’t say I lived for Top Gear, but you can absolutely say that in many ways my life was lived around Top Gear.
I’m devastated to see it go.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m teary-eyed as I write these words. Losing this silly show about three guys having fun with cars feels like losing a dear, dear friend.
There have been rumblings about a potential future for Clarkson, Hammond, and May. The Telegraph writes:
It is thought Clarkson may sign for American network Netflix, which is becoming increasingly popular with global TV audiences.
At a glance, that sounds amazing. Netflix has already proven — more than once — that they can facilitate great original programming. In the case of Top Gear, this may be even easier, as it’s possible that Clarkson holds some or all of the Top Gear intellectual property. (I’m skeptical, but time will tell.)[1]
I’m hopeful for the future. I’m hopeful I get to see similar work from Clarkson and crew, even if direct-to-video like before. I’m hopeful that whatever comes next may even be better than the Top Gear I know today.
I’m sad there will be no more Top Gear as I know it. But I’m glad that they’ve left behind such a tremendous back catalog that I can re-watch for years.
I know what I’ll be doing this evening.
As pointed out by several people on Twitter, including Hannes Hauer, the rights were actually sold to the BBC in 2012. At the time, they signed 3-year contracts; the same ones that are expiring this year. ↩
Over the years, Square has become one of my favorite companies to watch. They started a couple years ago with a Sandwich video, and a free card reader. The reader worked with your mobile phone to allow for you to physically swipe a credit card and take payments for anything. It was revolutionary. I carried my reader with me for years, despite only taking payments a handful of times.
Today, Square announced $Cashtags. Cringe-inducing name aside, this is extremely clever.
As all of us — myself included — try to figure out how to “monetize our brands”, we’re all seeking new and different revenue streams. The most popular approach, for individuals, seems to be Patreon. The usual idea is, you ask for people to commit to giving a small amount of money for each thing you create — blog post, song, video, etc.
I like the idea of Patreon quite a lot, but what if you want something that isn’t recurring, or perhaps, a little more casual?
Enter $Cashtags.

By downloading the Square Cash app, you can claim your own $Cashtag. Once the $Cashtag is set up, you don’t need to touch the app again. By using that $Cashtag, anyone can donate to you, or pay you for goods, or services rendered. All you both need is a debit card. Those paying you don’t need the app; they can do so via the web.
I’ve claimed $liss. Feel free to send me all your money. Daddy needs an Apple Watch, right?
I find $Cashtags so interesting because they remove nearly all barriers from getting paid. As I’ve been fantasizing a lot about ways to parlay podcasting and this website into a job, this fascinates me. Could I make a sustainable business out of $liss? My inclination is “absolutely not”, but who knows? With a little work, anything is possible.
Anyone want to take guesses on how long it will take for me to add a DONATE link to the site header?
I was flipping through August of 2014’s Car and Driver and noticed a couple interesting passages, both about things German.
In a M4 vs. 911 comparison test, regarding the M4:
Throttle progression, steering weight, and shift speed can be set to one of three modes, as in the outgoing car. For the steering, sport-plus is unnaturally stiff, comfort is unnervingly light, and sport mode is just right. It takes us 20 miles to configure the system with our preferred settings, and that’s long enough to grow even fonder of the 911, which ships with the proper calibration as the one and only setting.
The paradox of choice, it seems. I do admire Porsche’s dedication to there being only one truly right answer.
Additionally, regarding driving on the Autobahn:
There’s plenty of traffic, but it’s moving quickly and with the relentless lane discipline we’ll soon grow used to. Unlike in America, where drivers disperse all over the road according to the laws of molecular diffusion, German cars stay to the right whenever they aren’t passing. Germany thus seems to move more volume swiftly on a four-lane road than America can with ten lanes.

Click/tap to enlarge.
Having been on the Autobahn in 2013, being chauffeured around Germany in a brand-new BMW M5, I got to experience the Autobahn first-hand as a passenger. The thing that struck me the most was not the speed — which was astounding — but was the unwavering dedication to responsible and courteous driving. German drivers have to be seen to be believed; it is clear that driving is treated as a privilege in Germany.
Quite the contrast from America, where driving is also a privilege, but is treated like it is a right.
What a difference a year makes.
The ultrasound below was actually taken a year ago today, even though it didn’t make its public debut until May. The picture was taken this morning, just after Declan woke up. Exactly one year later.
Life is crazy, but also so very beautiful.

