Latest gadgets can drain pocketbooks of ‘early adopters’
“Dad, have you seen my volleyball jersey?”
Bonnie’s voice sounded frantic on the phone as she explained that she had looked all over our house for her No. 7 jersey, the one that she’s worn for three years on the Lawrence High School varsity team.
It was Senior Night and she wanted to go out wearing her lucky number.
She couldn’t find it.
And later that evening, when I went to watch the game, I saw that she had to wear No. 14. I could see the disappointment on her face.
Fortunately, the change to No. 14 seemed lucky — her team easily won their two matches on Senior Night. Then, a couple of days later, they went on to win at the sub-state tournament.
“Dad, how am I supposed to wash my jersey? The washer is flooded,” Bonnie said the next day.
Belly of the beast
We called a Sears service technician to come look at our 3-year-old Calypso washer — a high-efficiency, high-tech model we had bought in 2001.
I wanted the Calypso when I saw it — it was new and cool, with touchpad controls. It was supposed to save water, used high-efficiency detergent and was supposed to be the wave of the future with its new-concept “Calypso” agitator, which makes the motion a coin makes as its wobbling on a flat surface.
It was replacing an old Sears model, which had taken us from diapers through junior high jeans.
But the new technology was faulty — we’d already had several service calls on the washer in the three years we’d had it, including a broken pump.
When the technician arrived last week to figure out why it was flooded, I showed him the washer and went upstairs to let him get started.
After about 15 minutes, I went down to see how he was doing.
Hanging on the line was Bonnie’s missing No. 7 volleyball jersey, wet but intact. The washer had swallowed it and the technician had retrieved it from the belly of the beast.
Cutting your losses
The technician explained that the thin, black-and-white spandex jersey had slipped underneath a faulty rubber seal under the agitator.
Then he gave me the bad news.
“There’s a lot wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll print you out a ticket.”
The ticket showed the Calypso high-tech unit was a wreck — it was going to cost $550 and it would take a week for him to get all the parts.
And he couldn’t give me a guarantee the washer wouldn’t be broken again in another three years.
“Can’t I just buy a brand new washer for $550?”
He said I could get the best conventional washer they made for that amount. And he gave me a $65 coupon that I could use toward a new washer.
Laundry litigating
At the Sears store, my wife told the salesman that we wanted a new conventional washer. And she told him about our bad luck with the Calypso.
He’d heard it before.
“Did you know there’s a class-action lawsuit?” he asked.
All we wanted was to hurry and get rid of the old washer and get something reliable, we told him. Laundry was starting to build up.
And I had no desire to help a mass tort lawyer get rich, possibly causing a chilling effect on new technology.
We picked out a basic washer, a Kenmore Elite model, which was an energy-efficient, screw-type agitator washer. It was well under the $550 repair bill.
Innovators and adopters
Our little laundry episode made me realize that there’s always a risk of being the first on the block to get the latest gadget.
A sociologist, Everett Rogers, in his 1962 book “Diffusion of Innovation,” wrote about how people accept new ideas and technology.
I generally fall into Rogers’ “innovator” or “early adopter” categories, consisting of the first people to try new innovations. Others were “early majority,” “late majority” and finally the “laggards” — the skeptics who don’t like change.
Rogers said innovators were adventurous and risk takers in nature. But they also needed to control “substantial financial reserve resources to absorb possible loss from an unprofitable innovation.”
Scouting new products
But if you don’t have deep pockets, how can you be assured the new gizmo that you’re buying won’t be a lemon?
You can try doing research, but it doesn’t always work. For example, early product reviews a few years ago on the Calypso made me confident that I was getting a good deal.
But now, after checking on www.epinions.com, I see that other early buyers are posting their own horror stories after having their Calypso models for a few years.
I found one reviewer who also lost clothes that slipped under the washer basket. One review was titled, “My worst purchase in 27 years of marriage.” Another: “New technology gone awry.”
Another poster on epinions.com seemed to have the same experience as me — his Calypso lasted three years before needing a $500 repair.
Thanks to reports from other “early adopters” who reviewed it, those who didn’t buy early will benefit.
Maybe the company will go back to the drawing board and make changes.
Hedging your bets
“Bonnie, did you hear? We found your No. 7 jersey in the washer.”
I told her she could wear it to the state tournament. Then she surprised me.
“I don’t want it.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s unlucky, Dad. I won’t wear it.”
She had moved on.
Wearing No. 14, she had helped the team make it through sub-state to last weekend’s state tournament.
They were seeded eighth going into state, but battled all the way to the title game. They lost the championship game to No. 1-seeded Washburn Rural, but still were proud to bring back the No. 2 trophy to display at the school.
After last weekend’s excitement, I noticed Bonnie’s old No. 7 jersey was still hanging on the clothesline in the basement, next to our new washer.
I just hope we’re lucky enough for the washer to last us through the college years. But, just in case, this time we bought the service agreement.


