Tech For Rookies: Your place or mine

On Wednesdays, from 9:30-10:30 a.m., I teach Tech For Rookies at the Chicago Cultural Center (formerly the Chicago Public Library), 78 E. Randolph. Drop in any time; fee is $3. You'll learn how to receive and send e-mail and text messages; set up the address book and calendar; use the camera; take, save, and e-mail photos; download apps; and more. 

Private lessons are also available at your place or mine. Hourly rates start at $25, and may increase depending on the location. 

And, if you're contemplating a purchase of an Apple product, but are anxious about its use, I will accompany you to a store in Chicago or a nearby suburb. I'll translate the instructions given by the specialist, and assure that you don't exit until you are confident you can access key programs and applications. Again, hourly rates start at $25, and may increase depending on location. 

How To Add A Website To Your Home Screen

If you’re reading this blog post on your iPhone or iPad, you may wish to capture the website address so that next time you want to visit, it’ll be an easier journey.

Apple’s Safari browser makes that simple. This tip will work not only for any of my websites that I hope you frequent, but for all of your favorites.

Here’s how to add a website to your Home screen. But wait, perhaps a definition is in order: the Home Screen on your iPhone or iPad actually starts on the the second page of your device. The first page is what I have named, the global search page. You use that when you can’t find, or remember where an email, document, or app is on your phone. Just type the description into the horizontal blank space, and a list of suggestions should appear.

The Home Screen is the page where all of your Apple apps (applications), as well as those you’ve added, sit. This screen can actually go on for several pages, depending upon the number of apps you’ve placed on our phone or pad.

So, when you visit a page in Safari that you want easy access to -- perhaps your own website -- just tap the Share button at the bottom of the Safari window on the iPhone and at the top of the iPad. (Share looks like an arrow that points to the right and is coming out of a box.) Several rows of options for how you’d like to Share this website are available. 

You choose and tap Add to Home Screen. Another box will open with a title Apple believes should be attached to the chosen website. You can pick this and click the Add button at the right hand top of the screen, or you can type in a name which you believes fit better.

Once you’ve hit the Add button, swipe to the last page of all of your screens and you’ll see the website added. It will look like your other apps. Test it out. Click on it and it should take you directly to the website without going on your Safari browser first.

Tech for Rookies: private lessons for iPhones and IPads

iPhones and iPads are likely the most popular mobile devices purchased for personal use or holiday gifts. But sadly, too many people find themselves flummoxed when trying to use them. They’ve discovered that the rudimentary lessons given at the cellular phone stores leave them scratching their heads instead of adoring them as promised.

Private lessons at Tech for Rookies will take students  step-by-step through the basics, including these How To’s: turn them on and off, receive and send mail, populate the address book, use the calendar, download the most useful applications, create documents using the Pages word processing program, keep the device updated, and answer other questions that can turn rookies to fans.

The lesson may also appeal to those contemplating a purchase of one of these mobile devices, but need some assurance they won’t feel like a klutz after shelling out the purchase price.

For more information, contact: elainesoloway@gmail.com, or call 773-320-5681.

A Taste of the Apple

It was my last day. My letter of resignation had been accepted by the store manager. I had already removed my name tag from the cord I wore around my neck. The blue t-shirts with white logo were on a pile in the recycling box. I emptied my locker of business cards no longer valid. Now, it was time to say goodbye to a job I had coveted for more than 6 years, a dream job I felt incredibly fortunate to have won.

I opened the door that led from “back of the house” to retail and found myself staring at staffers lined up on either side of the product displays. An Apple tradition for all departing members, my coworkers were clapping and smiling as I slowly inched down the gauntlet. Customers, who had never before witnessed this leave-taking, looked to each other to figure out what this older woman had done to deserve such treatment. Those that had previously seen an Apple goodbye, joined in the applause.

As for me, I cried. From the rear to the front, I cried. I paused to hug team members who had welcomed this woman -- old enough to be their mother or grandmother -- to the Apple store in Old Orchard. These “kids” who had listened patiently whenever I raced to their side, pulled on an elbow, and asked, "How do we...? What do you suggest..." or other questions.

Now, rewind the scene to three months earlier when I first learned my application, audition at a recruitment event, and responses during three interviews, won me a spot. When I received that phone call, I believed I was the luckiest woman alive. Imagine, to work in a wonderland of iMacs, iPods, iPhones, iPads; to learn the credo and policies, to understand the lingo; to wear the blue t-shirt.

Mind you, I have had impressive jobs in the past. I was a press aide to a Chicago mayor (Jane Byrne), a communications director for a Chicago school superintendent (Ruth Love), an account exec at a prestigious public affairs firm (Jasculca/Terman), and owner of my own public relations business until I retired to write a memoir. But none of those posts filled me with the awe I felt at becoming an Apple Specialist.

And as I suspected, I loved the job. Selling was easy because I truly believed (still do) that Apple products are superior to its peers. I relished taking customers on "test drives" and showing them how to operate the computers and mobile devices. Older customers were my specialty because I was able to say, "if I can do it, you can, too." They would stare at my grey hair and be willing to listen to my enthusiastic spiel.

So, why did I leave Apple? Because when talking to business customers, I found myself asking, “so, how are you promoting your company?” I couldn’t stop my PR background from leaking out. I realized I missed being my own boss, and decided I wanted to take another stab.

So, after exiting Apple, I re-entered entrepreneurship. I printed business cards, announced the launching of Elaine Soloway Public Relations, built my own simple web site, wrote blogs, and became active on Facebook. I hired myself to promote my business, and used the hook, “Is It Risky to Reveal My Age.” Amazingly, that pitch garnered an almost immediate story in the Chicago Tribune.

While the column brought me attention and business (PR works!), more importantly, it proved I did know a good story when I saw it, I could write an effective pitch letter, and that relationships cultivated through social media could help get my e-mails opened.

ESPR is over a year old now and I’m proud to say I manage a handful of clients -- just enough for this small shop to handle, and enough to supplement income drained away when the economy did a nose dive.

But, coupled with the satisfaction I had made the right decision in leaving Apple, is the feeling of nostalgia whenever I enter its stores. When I visit North Michigan Avenue or North Avenue, it takes me a minute to reveal, “you know, I once worked at Apple.” And, if I’m in the Old Orchard mall, my visit isn’t complete until I head to my old home, pull on the elbows of former coworkers, and win hugs.

Happily, the kids haven’t forgotten me. As for this former Apple Specialist, I’ll never forget them, my blue logo t-shirt, and the best job I ever had.

One-Man Band: How Apple helps this solo player keep up the rhythm

Although I don't simultaneously use my hands, feet, limbs, and various mechanical contraptions to play music, I do like the imagery of a one-man band to help explain how my Apple devices boost my ability to get a lot of stuff done no matter my locale.

First, let me define "stuff," lest you think I spend my time watching videos or playing Angry Birds, which by the way, I still haven't figured out how to do.

My stuff falls into three categories: work related, social media, and personal.

Let's start with the one that pays my bills and allows me to purchase the aforementioned Apples.

Work

Since Apple and Microsoft are rivals, Apple prefers that its users turn to its iWork suite of programs, rather than Office. I'm aware you can use Office for Mac, but if you have "drunk the Koolaid" - a reference to loyalists' adherence to all things Apple -- like me, you'll want to embrace the whole megillah.

If you do, you can draft a news release, feature story or pitch letter (that's my business) using the Pages word processing program on your desktop Mac. Then open iCloud on Safari or Firefox (my favorite browsers) and drag the file onto the iWork website. Miraculously, when you open Pages on your iPhone, iPod Touch, or iPad, your draft will appear right there.

The process is even easier on the mobile devices because when you create or edit that piece on your iPad (my preferred mobile), it automatically travels to iCloud; no dragging needed.

Now, before you interrupt to tell me Microsoft Word is demanded by your correspondents, let me put your mind at ease: While in Pages, you have the option to send documents as Word files. And you also can open documents that have been sent to you in Word by converting them to Pages.

So although Apple and Microsoft seem to turn their backs on one another, in truth, they swivel, shake hands, and play nice.

Social Media

While I have many friends who vow they'd never use Facebook and can't fathom why anyone would we interested in what they ate for dinner, those of us faithful to the site, feel otherwise, particularly if you're in Public Relations like I am.

Apple's mobile devices enable me to update Facebook (Twitter and LinkedIn, too) whenever I have a spare moment. Either through it's App or via its page on Safari, I can update or link while I'm waiting for any number of tardy appointments, spouse pickups, or during TV commercials.

Personal

Because I check my email on my iPhone or iPad, I'm alerted to upcoming bills or sales at my favorite shops. I did all of my holiday shopping online (Zappos, J. Crew, Amazon, Harry Potter merchandise) prone on my couch. Believe me, I wanted to do all of this gift buying at local stores, but $10 shipping fees discouraged me. Be assured, if the item is staying in the city, I buy local, small business all the way.

Go for a test drive.

If you're still not persuaded Apple can help you perform like a one-man band, take a test drive at one of their brick-and-mortar stores. Also, sit in on the free workshops offered at all locations. Once equipped with your own rhythm section, play on!

Still working, after all these years

Startled, I woke to find my iPad lighting up and levitating. That could only mean one thing. One of my parents, in their 24/7 heavenly abodes, was trying to reach me.

I sat up, unplugged the device from its charger, rested it on my knees, and opened its lime green magnetic cover. Sure enough, via FaceTime, it was my father.

“I tried to reach Ronnie first to congratulate him,” Dad said, “but I don’t think he’s got his WiFi connected yet.”

How I love FaceTime and its ability to display visages of callers -- no matter their celestial locale.

“Did you hear? Ronnie’s sold seven Toyota's, and he’s been working at the dealership less than a month,” Dad said. My father’s face was beaming nearly as much as my Apple device.

For this morning’s phone call, Dad elected to show his circa 1950’s face. That’s the one he wore after he sold the grocery store and was working as a salesman for a meat company. He wore three-piece suits to work -- no more bloody aprons -- a classic Stetson, and his black hair and mustache were slick and neat.

I was about to agree with Dad’s enthusiasm over my brother’s feat, when the FaceTime screen suddenly split in two and up popped Mom’s face.

“What’s so great about him still working in his 70’s?” Mom said. She looked as pretty as ever and like Dad, she had shucked her store apron and was garbed in a shirtwaist dress and high heels -- her attire post-store when she was a switchboard operator at American Linen Supply.

“He should be relaxing on some beach, playing golf, enjoying life, not working 9 to 5," she said. Now, the smile and screen dimmed.

I heard Dad sigh, so I took over. “Hi, Mom,” I said. “I’m still working in my 70’s, too. Both Ronnie and I have been forced to keep going because the economy hurt both of us.”

A laugh from Dad. “Hah, knowing you two, I don’t see a beach in your future. Admit it, you and your brother like working. You like keeping busy, earning a paycheck, kibitzing with coworkers and customers. Don’t tell me different,” he said. “I remember you two in the store. You loved helping out.”

Now it was Mom’s turn to sigh. “Loved? What was there to love? Slaving all day behind a counter. Watching our customers go across the street to the supermarket while they had debts with us? What was fun about that?”

“Look at all the odd jobs our kids had,” Dad said in profile to Mom. “That proves they were hard workers. Remember Sammy’s Red Hots for Ronnie, and his Hawaiian photography business?”

Mom gave a harrumph. “Don’t forget your daughter’s Gap and Apple sidetracks,” she said. “Although I do like these goodies she sent us from the Apple store.” My iPad momentarily rose as I imagined my mother holding it aloft for emphasis.

“Can I speak?” I interrupted. “You’re right. Ronnie and I did inherit some of your entrepreneurial spirit. So maybe we do like working rather than relaxing.”

I saw Dad shake his head. “Oy,” he said, putting a palm to his face. “Even though you say you enjoy working, it’s hard to see you two hit by a rotten economy, just like we were in the ‘40s. Outside forces...”

Mom interrupted. “Outside forces, shmoutside forces. Irv, you're forever blaming supermarkets for our store's collapse. Sure, some of the problems we can blame on them, but give it up already. Admit it - you were a lousy manager."

Dad looked sheepish. He was likely recalling the time spent in the pool hall rather than in the back of the store paying bills.

"And the bookies?" she continued. I stopped her there.

"Listen you two, you're wasting battery life bickering. Let's just call it a draw. You're both right; forces beyond our control bounced Ronnie and me back to the workplace. But, I'm sure he'll admit nothing feels better than making a sale. And I'll own up to delight in scoring a new client. Satisfied?"

Smiles from both. And with that, my iPad's screen faded and my parents disappeared.

Lying back on the pillow, I fell quickly back to sleep. Or…

Why owning an iPhone is like giving birth

I fear I have not been completely honest with those I've urged to purchase an iPhone. Naturally, as is my wont, I regale all with the marvelous features I've come to love: the myriad applications, the ability to text to two daughters at one time, my album of hundreds of photographs of myself and loved ones, the ease of telling the time of day in Chicago, Boston, Los Angeles, and Hawaii, and on and on.

By the time, I finish my litany, I am drenched in sweat and the object of my persuasion is rushing out the door to get to the nearest Apple store. (I have already demonstrated how to find it via Maps.)

But, my daughter Faith, who made me the happiest mother in the world when she purchased an iPhone, recently admonished me for omitting difficulties with the wondrous device. "Oh, I had problems at first, too," I told her when she called to ask a tech question. "In fact, I took the phone back the next day because I found it so frustrating." "Mom," she said testily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

That's when I realized that owning an iPhone is like giving birth. You tend to forget the bad stuff. So, to make it up to Faith and to any other newbies who are about to toss their cell out the window, I'm listing a few problems that, um, may arise with your iPhone, and my solutions. (You could go directly to Apple's Discussion Forum, but isn't this more fun?)

1. Nothing happens when I touch it! It's dead!
No dear ones, your iPhone is not dead, merely frozen. You've likely confused its little computer head by touching too many applications, or doing something to make it quit. But it's easily thawed out. Here's how:

Press and hold the button that's located on the right side on the top of your iPhone. Apple calls it Sleep/Wake, but I call it On/Off. Hold it down until the red slider appears on your screen. Then, slide your finger across the slider. To turn it back on, press and hold that top button until the Apple logo appears. Leave it alone for a few minutes (you may see the little gear revolving) while the phone decides if it wants to work again.

If nothing happens after 5 minutes, press the On button again. But don't hold it down as it will power off again. All should return to normal. Other users say you can unfreeze by holding down the Off/On button at the same time as you hold down the Home/Menu button -- that's the one at the center of the bottom of the phone. If none of these fixes work, call Apple's Service and Support line at 1-800-275-2273.

2. Texting on this thing is impossible!
Let's say you've written an e-mail or text message and you've made an error somewhere in the middle of the copy. After you've erupted in a few @#$%s, calm down. You do not have to go back and erase all of the copy that comes after the error. Simply place your finger on the error until a magnifying glass appears. Do your correction. Return to the last word of your text, put your finger there (consider your finger a mouse that moves a cursor), and babble on.

3. I can't upload a photo to Facebook!
Take a photo with the camera application on your iPhone. It will land in Photos. Download the Facebook app for iPhones from the iTunes App store. Open the Facebook app and when it shows your page, look for a teeny, tiny picture of a camera to the left of the space for a status update. Click on that and select the option Choose From Library. Return to the Photos app, touch the photo you want to upload to Facebook. Add a caption, click upload and before you can say Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg, your photo will appear on your Facebook page.

Now that you've learned all this, isn't your iPhone adorable? Doesn't she look just like her mother?