Invariably, a new gadget gets a scratch or nick that somehow seems to deflate its perceived value. While I still love my iPad2 like a father loves his child, seeing the first evidence of an imperfection had me all torn up inside. I had spent yet another day marveling at the versatility of my 10-inch Pandora’s Box as I seamlessly switched between the new issue of Vanity Fair (sorry Emma Stone, you will be nude one day in a movie), watched the Red Sox light up Ricky Romero on my MLB app, and learned new words “fyke”, “veldt”, and “etchant” as I lost at Scrabble to the computer (the iPad?).
But when I turned off my iPad and incidentally held it up to the light, I noticed two unnerving scratches. A closer examination revealed hundreds of tiny arch-like scratches stretching across the coating of the glass screen. I swallowed hard. My baby no longer had that new baby glow. Instead it looked haggard and garish – something I only imagined a Xoom or Galaxy owner might feel as they used their second-rate tablets.
I frantically scoured the Internet looking for possible explanations. Was I using the wrong micro-fiber cloth? Had the smart cover somehow damaged it? Had my unkempt male nails unwittingly done the damage. No, no, no.
I finally stumbled upon what I believe to be the culprit. A like-minded OCD iPad owner posited the theory that the game Fruit Ninja was responsible for this calamity. Both his long-nailed wife and his children had been avid fans and players of Fruit Ninja, a game that requires rapid and repetitive swiping across the screen. Of course, it all made sense. My little boy and some of his cousins had been playing long sessions of Fruit Ninja over the last week after I foolishly plopped down $1.99 for the full version of the game.
Make no mistake, my iPad still works perfectly and when the screen is on these scratches are barely visible. But this experience has forced me to concede that either I should have purchased a screen cover or I should have been a little more selfish about my iPad. No sharing, no problems, right?
These scratches raise some larger questions. Should Fruit Ninja be required to warn users that their app might damage an iPad? And what happens if I continue to allow my son to play Fruit Ninja? Will the screen eventually succumb to death by a thousand tiny sword swipes? And does Apple need to temper its marketing claims about the battle-ready nature of its screens?
I don’t know. But when my iPad is off and the light is shining brightly on it, my mood gets a little darker these days.
