My one pair of blue jeans was wearing a little thin. It occurred to me that it was 20, or
possibly 30 years old, and I ordered a new pair. In this high tech, impossible to keep up with
world where everything is obsolete almost before it’s sold, I had the most astonishingly pleasant
experience.
The same company still makes exactly the same product. According to their logo—same
as on my old jeans, two mules (that would be the QA Department) unable to tear a pair apart—they’ve
been making the same thing since 1873.
The specs are exactly the same—two numbers straight off the old label yielded a "plug &
play" replica, and installation was a breeze.
They are completely compatible with older clothing—no other upgrades required for
seamless integration. (The product is an enduring technological marvel—the button fly on my
old pair even worked flawlessly after Y2K.)
There is no password to remember, and nothing to validate with a 25 digit alphanumeric
code.
The jeans don’t even require an internet connection—no two-year contract to sign, and
they will never suddenly drop if you find yourself in a dreaded "dead zone."
They have exactly the same intuitive interface—everything is in the same place, and they
work the same—no .pdf operating manual, FAQs, or Southeast Asian phone support needed.
I haven’t had them that long, but to date they also haven’t spontaneously begun doing
something differently than the day before, or required that I take them off and put them back on
while in use.
And best of all, they are apparently completely idiot proof. No OSHA, FTC, FDA, etc.
warning against changing your pants while operating heavy machinery or other reaction to a
civic minded class action lawsuit. (Of course, I did buy the button fly model once again—I do
see some potential concerns with zippers.)
Not what modern marketing wants to hear, but there is a lesson in this. If you make a
perfect product the first time, you may not be giving the customer what they want with a Release
2.0.
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