Locked out of jail
For the last couple of hours, I’ve been climbing that old learning curve. Haven’t fallen off, but my progress is stuck back around the first 5% of the road. No pass mark here.
And what, you might ask, have I been trying to learn? Ask politely, and stand well back from the flailing elbows. I’ve been trying to reset an iPod. Yes, the one that I purchased a season or two ago, by trading in my original MP3 player. It never was mine, just a gift item. But when things go badly, my desk has that sweet spot.
You see, the iPod has a password. Four digits. And some sort of anti-sanity software that counts the failed attempts and locks the window for an hour at a time. At this rate, assuming I keep good records and stay on task, I might discover the magic combination by the time we have to put up the living room tree again. In the eyes of Apple, this is secure. I agree. If you can’t use the freaking thing, that qualifies as secure enough for government standards.
The thought (in the beginning) was simple. Given that the “Touch” had been supplanted by a “Phone” and a couple of “Pad” affairs, it might be the time to regift a needy child. One of ours, in case you think I’ve gone all soft in my later life. The explanation was simple: plug it in (to the Tunes), navigate to the reset everything screen and “start all over again” (you can download the tune from Tunes, in passing).
Not without a password.
The jailbreak option was suggested, but the software has been upgraded to the latest and greatest. The version known as “Alcatraz”, methinks.
