Because Chapter 1 is not for you. In fact, I wasn’t even going to include a Chapter 1 at all (and simply start the book with Chapter 2), but I was afraid that somebody would buy the book and need Chapter 1 (not you, mind you, but someone).
Okay, so if Chapter 1 isn’t for you, who’s it for? Basically it’s for freaks. See, here’s the problem: When you first get your iPod, it’s basically a brick. It can’t do anything because it doesn’t come with any songs or videos preloaded on it. Not a single one. Nada. So if you open the box and turn it on, it will have the same functionality as a brick—it will sit there in your hand doing nothing. Most folks (you, me, other non-freaks) understand that there are some things that need to be done before you use your iPod (you have to either download some songs, or import them from CDs, or import songs already on your computer, or download a podcast or TV show from the iTunes Store; then you have to organize your songs into playlists; transfer your song library into your iPod; learn a few things about how the iPod works; and then you have a fully functioning iPod that totally rocks). In short, you have to pay your iPod dues.
But there are people out there (you know who they are) who don’t want to pay their dues. They only want one thing—instant gratification. They bought an iPod, and they want to use it now. They want to put the earbuds in, go immediately to the mall, and just “be seen” with an iPod. Oftentimes “these people” wouldn’t even have a song on their iPod—they’d just fake it—bobbing their heads as if there were really music playing, but that’s risky, because if they run into somebody they know, that person might say, “Hey, cool—an iPod. Can I hear it?” Then they’re busted. So to get around that, all they would need to figure out is how to download (or import) just one song into their iPod as fast as possible, without learning anything else about the iPod or iTunes or the iTunes Store. Then they wouldn’t have to pretend that they’re hearing music; they would cover themselves from possibly enduring an embarrassing “moment of silence” with a friend. And they would become very well acquainted with that one song.
Well, that’s what Chapter 1 is for—it shows those people (“them”) how to do nothing more than quickly download one song and play it. So as long as you’re not one of “them,” you need to start at Chapter 2 and skip Chapter 1 altogether. Now, you probably know some Chapter 1 people, and when you lend them this book, tell them that they only have to read Chapter 1. They’ll thank you for it.
Right. That’s because if instead it said “Introduction” at the top of the page (which is what this secretly is by the way), there’s no chance you would read it. None. Nobody reads introductions these days. More people watch C-SPAN than read introductions (if that tells you anything). But the weird thing is, introductions are very, very important (after all, if you hadn’t read this, you’d be needlessly reading Chapter 1 right now, right?).
Publishing companies have spent millions on researching the “nobody-reads-the-introduction” phenomenon, and the results of that research showed that so few people now read a book’s introduction that publishers no longer edit or proofread introductions before they go to press. Want proof? Check this out: neeblick sanbo floppybobo. They have no idea what I’m writing here. “I cood litter dis ting wit typos unt dey wood never no.” See what I mean? So basically, it’s just you and me here, but if you continue reading this short introduction, I can promise you one thing: after you’re done, you’ll either say, “Hey, I’m glad I read that” or “Now I fully understand why nobody reads introductions.” Either way, you’ve come this far, so you might as well hang in there for a few more paragraphs.
[Hanging in there is hard to do.—Ed.]
There are basically two kinds of iPod books out there: (1) The “tell-me-all-about-it” kind, which tell you everything before you do anything. They include in-depth discussions on compression algorithms, debates about analog vs. digital equalizers, and they show things like how to export your playlist in Unicode format and how to dismantle and reassemble your iPod while blindfolded. (2) Then there’s this book. It’s not a “tell-me-all-about-it”; it’s a “show-me-how-to-do-it” book. I show you how to do only the most important, most requested, most likely things you’re going to want to do with your iPod so you can start using it now.
Each page in the book shows you how to do just one important thing. One topic. One idea. One feature. For example, if you want to have your iPod automatically balance the volume between songs, I will show you, step-by-step, how to do exactly that. No big discussions about recording techniques, room acoustics, or why some songs are recorded louder than others—just how to turn the sound balancing feature on. I skipped the information overload and all the tech-geek jargon, and I say everything the same way I would if you asked me to show you in person. So, when you want to learn a particular thing about your iPod, just find the topic in the Table of Contents, turn to that one page, and you’ll have the answer you need in seconds. That’s what makes it a “show-me-how-to-do-it” book. If at some point in the future you decide that you want to read in-depth discussions on compression algorithms, then you’ll go buy one of those 500-page iPod books.
I’m glad you asked that. It’s in some kind of order, just not the ideal one. In that I mean it’s not in the real order of how you’d actually use an iPod from start to finish. In real life, the first thing you do is charge your iPod (which takes about four hours for a full charge), and while it’s charging you’d go to work in iTunes (the software that lets you sort, arrange, and even buy music for your iPod), because that’s what you really need to do before you really start using your iPod. So, really, the book should’ve been in this order: (1) two pages on charging your iPod, (2) a hundred or so pages on using iTunes and the iTunes Store, including how to transfer songs onto your iPod, and then lastly (3) how to use your iPod’s features. That would be the ideal way to structure the book, but I didn’t do it that way. Why? Because of human nature. When people buy a book on the iPod, they expect to open the book and see a lot about the iPod right off the bat. Seriously, think about it—if you went to the bookstore, picked up a book called The iPod Book, and instead of seeing a bunch of stuff about the new iPod you just bought, the first hundred or so pages is on some software you may not have even realized you need, you might put the book back down and keep looking until you found a book that’s really about iPods. Right? Well, I’ve put too much work into this book to take that chance, so I sold out (to “the man”), and put the iPod stuff right up front in nothing short of a slick, subliminal, mind-control marketing gimmick. I knew you’d understand. Hey, but by reading this introduction, you’ve now learned the real iPod workflow, giving you (come on, say it with me) “real value in reading this book’s introduction.” See, I told you this would pan out.
Okay, so if it’s not in a workflow order, what kind of order is it in? I call it a “use-a-funkability” order. What that means is that when you get to the iTunes chapters, they’re in order by what you’ll probably wind up doing first, followed by what you’ll do second, third, and so on. So even though the entire iTunes section is technically in the wrong place, the section itself is in the right order. So is the iPod stuff. So is everything else. So being in the right order in the little picture, while still not being in the right order in the big picture, makes this “use-a-funkability” work. Come on, say it with me out loud—“use-a-funk-a-bility.” It’s catchy.
Both. The iPod and iTunes are identical on both Mac and Windows. However, in the iTunes chapters I give some keyboard shortcuts, and because the keyboard on a Mac and the keyboard on a PC are slightly different, I give the shortcuts for both.
All the iTunes stuff still applies to you, but since these iPods have different controls from the iPod classic and iPod nano, I wanted to address them separately, so there is a separate chapter for the iPod shuffle (Chapter 14) and one for the iPod touch (and the iPod features of Apple’s iPhone; Chapter 8). See, just when you think I’ll zig—I zag. By the way, I have no idea what that means.
I’ve got a telekinetic thing going on. Actually, what I have is beyond that. It’s called “tele-funkability.” Gotcha! (I just wanted to see if you’re still paying attention.)
I start each chapter with a short intro. They’re as meaningful in the complete understanding of the chapter’s contents as the word “use-a-funkability” is to anything. In other words, they’re for fun, too. I do that because the rest of the book is pretty straightforward stuff, and at some point, after writing page after page of “click here, scroll to that, insert that cable, etc.,” I needed some space to break out a can of my inner funk-a-chunk-a-liciousness. I know, it’s hard to believe I get paid for this.
Nah—I think you’re good. Though I do want to offer this closing thought: If after all this, you decide to go ahead and read Chapter 1, I won’t tell anybody. Really, there’s no shame in downloading one song and playing it over and over again in desperate hope of attracting some attention from the opposite sex (sorry about using the word “sex” in my book, but my publisher told me it will help sell more books). Okay, I think you’re ready. Turn to whichever chapter you feel most drawn to. Either way, it won’t be long before you’ve uncovered how to master Apple’s iPod—the baddest portable music player the world has ever known. It’s funk-a-fab-u-los-oh!