Adaptive distress
We have evolved. Now, when you grab that pair of mittens, fresh from Grammy’s needles, there is a reasonable chance that there will be a “fit”. Two hands, able to contain an average hand. Simiarly, at the shoe store, the number of shoes in the box aatches well with the average number of feet. I know, size can be an issue, but there is a concerted effort to keep your toes out of the mud. Coats rarely have three sleeves. We have reached a point of agreement on what is common.
In stark contrast, try shopping for adapters for, well, anything electronic. Back in the 60’s, my new taper recorder had a DIN plug (fine German/Dutch engineering). That might be the last time I had a device that was easiliy “adapted” to my needs.
This afternoon, I started shopping for a USB-C hub. To go with the “air” that will be delivered forthwith. And my head is reeling. So many variables. First of all, that USB is a misnomer: Universal Serial Bus. Let the suffixes bear witness. A, B, C, mini C and on (and on). For the adapter crowd, there are ways to connect the letters together, but at a cost. As well, since manufacturers realized that the conssumer will do the heavy hauling, they just throw their wares into the market, with minimal descriptions, and let us sort through the mess. At least Amazon has the civility to recognize how the befuddled consumer will want to return purchases, in view of the low chance of compatibilty.
I’m OK. I gave up on “owning the ultimate adapter toolbox” a very long time ago. Now, I just go with the flow. I’m not trying to get my data to the Moon (and back), so there will be failures. And when was the last time you saw a memory key explode? Good. I’m on the right track. It doesn’t mean that I won’t rant, or bag my head on the doorjamb, but I’ll try to keep my screams of angjuish in check.
