Act 1: Love at first sight
In thinking about my answer to "What are your favorite gadgets on your gdgt lists and why?", I had so many thoughts about the device at the top of my list that I decided to make it a full-blown blog post. If I seem to ramble, I apologize in advance, but this is meant to be an ode to the one device that I loved more than a person should ever love inanimate objects. (feel free to skip to the "Epilogue" if you want a short summary)
I remember the day I first saw it. I was on my way out of Circuit City and made my customary pass by the last row of the computer section, where they kept the hot items to make them more visible. When I got to the last item, I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't believe my eyes... a folding device, with a full keyboard, that would fit in a pocket. I slowly moved up to it, glancing at the product placard on the way... Diamond Mako. How had I not heard of this before? I immediately started operating the touch screen and found the interface to be completely obvious and familiar. I opened the word processor and was delighted to find that it was a fairly competent piece of software. I started testing out the keyboard and found that I could type perfectly well in the word processor with it... not as fast as a real keyboard, but fast enough to do real writing, especially after a little practice.
This was like a revelation. I had been trying to finish my book about my journey to Ireland for years, and found that I could never stay on task when trying to write at home. Much like in college, I did my best writing at a coffee shop, away from the distractions of my daily life. I immediately began to have visions of finishing my book in the local coffee shop and beginning my next project. I couldn't justify the cost of a laptop at this point and none of the PDA type devices I had looked at before really intrigued me. I needed something mobile desperately, though.
The only problem was the cost... $299.99 is nothing to sneeze at even now, and it felt like a lot more back in 2001. Yes, it was a lot cheaper than a laptop, but still expensive in relation to my budget at the time. I left the store without it, of course, but I couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities for the next several days. After discussing it with my wife, I started saving money and managed to scrape enough together after a few weeks. While I was saving, though, I started doing some research online and discovered that the Diamond Mako was an American repackaging of the Psion Revo Plus. I started bookmarking pages of programs I planned to install when I purchased it. Of course, this was building up quite a bit of anticipation in me and I was hoping I would not be disappointed when I finally got it home.
Phase 2: To know the Mako is to love the Mako
The day finally arrived and I rushed home with my prize. I read through the manual while it was charging and installed the sync software on my PC, checking out the options to convert documents from the device over to Word format on the PC. I was stoked.
When the charging was through, I sat down and started writing the next section of my book. This was going to work. I then started entering my calendar into the calendar program on the Mako and setting alarms. I was thrilled to discover that the alarm would ring indefinitely until you told it to stop, even if it killed the battery in the process. I needed this to keep me on task. Over the course of the next few months, the calendar feature proved itself to be an even more valuable feature to me than the word processor, as this was a very busy and stressful time in my life. The calendar program worked exactly the way I think and made the Mako worth its weight in gold to me. I have never found another calendar program that I like as much or that is as useful to me. Everything I have used since feels like a clunky collection of half-solutions to produce the same results I got in one simple place on my Mako.
Next, I found myself loading up text files of things on my reading list, which allowed me to start getting reading done that I had been putting off. Being able to pull the Mako out of my pocket any time I had 10 minutes to spare and pick up where I left off was like adding another hour to my day. Granted, we have better dedicated reader programs now than we did then, but it worked, and it changed my vision of what a portable device should be.
The pinnacle of my Mako days was when I finished the first draft of my book, at long long last, while riding on a train returning home from Christmas vacation up north. The Mako had accomplished its goal admirably and helped me to complete my long-procrastinated work. I could have kissed it that day.
Act 3: Infidelity
About this time, another thing was happening in my tech world. I had discovered the Mac by using one at work and began longing for an end to the misery of dealing with Windows 98. I had reached a point where I hated Windows and couldn't wait for the day I shut that machine down one last time. Through some video work I was able to do, I finally managed to buy my first Mac. All was well with the world... almost. Only after the Mac was in my possession did I bother to look for Mac options for syncing up my Mako. It was not pretty. There were two Java-based projects I found, but neither was complete or bug-free, and I only managed to get one of the options to even pretend to work. This was a huge blow to morale. It meant that I had to fire up my Windows machine, the one I wanted to get rid of, every time I needed to sync my Mako or move files on or off.
This got to be irritating enough that I started looking for Mako replacements that would work with the Mac. At the time, that meant Palm Pilots. That was all that would work very well. The more I looked at Palm devices and portable keyboards, the more I tried to convince myself that they would be better in the long run. Deep down, though, I felt that I couldn't really forsake my beloved Mako... or could I?
Then fate happened. My Mako developed the dreaded rechargeable battery death problem. It would no longer charge properly and I couldn't get it to run on battery. I was sad, but, at the same time, I was hopeful that my extended warranty might get me a new Palm device since the Mako had been discontinued for a while. After sending it off and waiting for weeks, I finally got the call from the warranty company that I would receive a full credit of the original purchase price since they could not fix it. Now that the deal was done, I got excited about a new Mac-friendly device and used my credit to buy a Palm m125.
Act 4: Regret
It didn't take long for the excitement to fade. In fact, I felt sick to my stomach within minutes of seeing the ridiculous Palm Desktop sync software at work. How much more convoluted could they have made it if they tried? The Palm's address book and calendar felt like pathetic Fisher Price "My First PDA" garbage after using the Psion software. Not having a physical keyboard began to grate on me within days. And writing while on the go? Forget about it. The only thing this was very good at was keeping a shopping list. I felt duped, then angry, then depressed.
I very quickly began to regret my decision to send in my Mako. I wished that I had kept it and tried to find a way to replace the battery myself. It took me a few weeks to get over this feeling and just accept my fate. I made due with the Palm as best as I could, but I never liked it.
Act 5: Nostalgia
To this day, I have never found a portable device that I have loved the way I loved that Mako. Losing my Mako sent me on a perpetual quest, like seeking the Holy Grail, that I am still longing to complete. I have since tried the Sharp Zaurus 5500SL, which I liked in many ways, the Psion Series 5, which couldn't compete in terms of pocketability and reliability due to the AA batteries, and several modern phones including the original iPhone, the Nokia e71x, the Samsung Moment, and the HTC EVO. None have inspired in me the love and appreciation I had for the Mako.
Granted, my attempt to use a Psion Series 5 after years away from the Psion software showed me that we had come a long way since the days of the Mako in terms of software, but it did not quench my nostalgia completely. The Mako had the perfect form factor for the tasks I used it for, and none of my devices since have given me such a perfect balance of size, shape, weight, battery life, and keyboard. I have been watching the gadget world closely for a modern Revo-inspired device, but every close contender falls short in one way or another. So my nostalgia remains, possibly to never be satisfied. Perhaps one day this nostalgia will inspire me to give up the search and take matters into my own hands by learning enough electrical engineering to build a replacement myself. Rest assured, though, any company that builds a device that can truly replace the Mako in my heart will be the recipient of my undying affection.
Epilogue
I think the reason the Psion Revo / Revo Plus / Diamond Mako was such a winner is that it was designed and built by a company who saw a problem and wanted to provide a solid solution, believing they would be rewarded by those who would buy it, love it, and promote it. As we know, those kinds of aspirations don't always work out in the marketplace. The best products often fail to be the winners in their categories, losing to the "good enough" alternatives.
The Mako really felt like it was designed to solve a problem, and, for me, it did so perfectly, inspiring the most devoted affection I have ever held towards a gadget. Most modern devices feel like they are designed less to be a solution to specific problems, and more like they are built to be just good enough and flashy enough to get people to buy them so the company responsible can use the device as an ad platform, content sales mechanism, or multimedia ecosystem lock-in. Some might argue that I am too cynical in this opinion, but I would only challenge them to show me some examples of modern portable gadgets that really do address specific, and possibly niche, sets of needs. Sharp may be the only company with any shred of that attitude left, but they seem to have lost their will to soldier on. I thought I had found my answer in their IS01, but it hasn't gotten any attention and seems to be too under-powered to really handle the demands that Android will make of the hardware going forward. If I find one cheap enough, I may give it a shot, but its cost in comparison to other modern gadgets that fill similar needs makes it hard to justify.
If any of you Psion hardware designers are out there and listening, please know that there are still those of us who would love a modern Revo running Android, with a small high-res screen. If you can wade through the present climate of ecosystem lock-in that threatens to kill problem-solving innovation, it's not too late to come out of retirement and fill that Revo-sized hole in our hearts.
Todd Russell
In thinking about my answer to "What are your favorite gadgets on your gdgt lists and why?", I had so many thoughts about the device at the top of my list that I decided to make it a full-blown blog post. If I seem to ramble, I apologize in advance, but this is meant to be an ode to the one device that I loved more than a person should ever love inanimate objects. (feel free to skip to the "Epilogue" if you want a short summary)
I remember the day I first saw it. I was on my way out of Circuit City and made my customary pass by the last row of the computer section, where they kept the hot items to make them more visible. When I got to the last item, I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't believe my eyes... a folding device, with a full keyboard, that would fit in a pocket. I slowly moved up to it, glancing at the product placard on the way... Diamond Mako. How had I not heard of this before? I immediately started operating the touch screen and found the interface to be completely obvious and familiar. I opened the word processor and was delighted to find that it was a fairly competent piece of software. I started testing out the keyboard and found that I could type perfectly well in the word processor with it... not as fast as a real keyboard, but fast enough to do real writing, especially after a little practice.
This was like a revelation. I had been trying to finish my book about my journey to Ireland for years, and found that I could never stay on task when trying to write at home. Much like in college, I did my best writing at a coffee shop, away from the distractions of my daily life. I immediately began to have visions of finishing my book in the local coffee shop and beginning my next project. I couldn't justify the cost of a laptop at this point and none of the PDA type devices I had looked at before really intrigued me. I needed something mobile desperately, though.
The only problem was the cost... $299.99 is nothing to sneeze at even now, and it felt like a lot more back in 2001. Yes, it was a lot cheaper than a laptop, but still expensive in relation to my budget at the time. I left the store without it, of course, but I couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities for the next several days. After discussing it with my wife, I started saving money and managed to scrape enough together after a few weeks. While I was saving, though, I started doing some research online and discovered that the Diamond Mako was an American repackaging of the Psion Revo Plus. I started bookmarking pages of programs I planned to install when I purchased it. Of course, this was building up quite a bit of anticipation in me and I was hoping I would not be disappointed when I finally got it home.
Phase 2: To know the Mako is to love the Mako
The day finally arrived and I rushed home with my prize. I read through the manual while it was charging and installed the sync software on my PC, checking out the options to convert documents from the device over to Word format on the PC. I was stoked.
When the charging was through, I sat down and started writing the next section of my book. This was going to work. I then started entering my calendar into the calendar program on the Mako and setting alarms. I was thrilled to discover that the alarm would ring indefinitely until you told it to stop, even if it killed the battery in the process. I needed this to keep me on task. Over the course of the next few months, the calendar feature proved itself to be an even more valuable feature to me than the word processor, as this was a very busy and stressful time in my life. The calendar program worked exactly the way I think and made the Mako worth its weight in gold to me. I have never found another calendar program that I like as much or that is as useful to me. Everything I have used since feels like a clunky collection of half-solutions to produce the same results I got in one simple place on my Mako.
Next, I found myself loading up text files of things on my reading list, which allowed me to start getting reading done that I had been putting off. Being able to pull the Mako out of my pocket any time I had 10 minutes to spare and pick up where I left off was like adding another hour to my day. Granted, we have better dedicated reader programs now than we did then, but it worked, and it changed my vision of what a portable device should be.
The pinnacle of my Mako days was when I finished the first draft of my book, at long long last, while riding on a train returning home from Christmas vacation up north. The Mako had accomplished its goal admirably and helped me to complete my long-procrastinated work. I could have kissed it that day.
Act 3: Infidelity
About this time, another thing was happening in my tech world. I had discovered the Mac by using one at work and began longing for an end to the misery of dealing with Windows 98. I had reached a point where I hated Windows and couldn't wait for the day I shut that machine down one last time. Through some video work I was able to do, I finally managed to buy my first Mac. All was well with the world... almost. Only after the Mac was in my possession did I bother to look for Mac options for syncing up my Mako. It was not pretty. There were two Java-based projects I found, but neither was complete or bug-free, and I only managed to get one of the options to even pretend to work. This was a huge blow to morale. It meant that I had to fire up my Windows machine, the one I wanted to get rid of, every time I needed to sync my Mako or move files on or off.
This got to be irritating enough that I started looking for Mako replacements that would work with the Mac. At the time, that meant Palm Pilots. That was all that would work very well. The more I looked at Palm devices and portable keyboards, the more I tried to convince myself that they would be better in the long run. Deep down, though, I felt that I couldn't really forsake my beloved Mako... or could I?
Then fate happened. My Mako developed the dreaded rechargeable battery death problem. It would no longer charge properly and I couldn't get it to run on battery. I was sad, but, at the same time, I was hopeful that my extended warranty might get me a new Palm device since the Mako had been discontinued for a while. After sending it off and waiting for weeks, I finally got the call from the warranty company that I would receive a full credit of the original purchase price since they could not fix it. Now that the deal was done, I got excited about a new Mac-friendly device and used my credit to buy a Palm m125.
Act 4: Regret
It didn't take long for the excitement to fade. In fact, I felt sick to my stomach within minutes of seeing the ridiculous Palm Desktop sync software at work. How much more convoluted could they have made it if they tried? The Palm's address book and calendar felt like pathetic Fisher Price "My First PDA" garbage after using the Psion software. Not having a physical keyboard began to grate on me within days. And writing while on the go? Forget about it. The only thing this was very good at was keeping a shopping list. I felt duped, then angry, then depressed.
I very quickly began to regret my decision to send in my Mako. I wished that I had kept it and tried to find a way to replace the battery myself. It took me a few weeks to get over this feeling and just accept my fate. I made due with the Palm as best as I could, but I never liked it.
Act 5: Nostalgia
To this day, I have never found a portable device that I have loved the way I loved that Mako. Losing my Mako sent me on a perpetual quest, like seeking the Holy Grail, that I am still longing to complete. I have since tried the Sharp Zaurus 5500SL, which I liked in many ways, the Psion Series 5, which couldn't compete in terms of pocketability and reliability due to the AA batteries, and several modern phones including the original iPhone, the Nokia e71x, the Samsung Moment, and the HTC EVO. None have inspired in me the love and appreciation I had for the Mako.
Granted, my attempt to use a Psion Series 5 after years away from the Psion software showed me that we had come a long way since the days of the Mako in terms of software, but it did not quench my nostalgia completely. The Mako had the perfect form factor for the tasks I used it for, and none of my devices since have given me such a perfect balance of size, shape, weight, battery life, and keyboard. I have been watching the gadget world closely for a modern Revo-inspired device, but every close contender falls short in one way or another. So my nostalgia remains, possibly to never be satisfied. Perhaps one day this nostalgia will inspire me to give up the search and take matters into my own hands by learning enough electrical engineering to build a replacement myself. Rest assured, though, any company that builds a device that can truly replace the Mako in my heart will be the recipient of my undying affection.
Epilogue
I think the reason the Psion Revo / Revo Plus / Diamond Mako was such a winner is that it was designed and built by a company who saw a problem and wanted to provide a solid solution, believing they would be rewarded by those who would buy it, love it, and promote it. As we know, those kinds of aspirations don't always work out in the marketplace. The best products often fail to be the winners in their categories, losing to the "good enough" alternatives.
The Mako really felt like it was designed to solve a problem, and, for me, it did so perfectly, inspiring the most devoted affection I have ever held towards a gadget. Most modern devices feel like they are designed less to be a solution to specific problems, and more like they are built to be just good enough and flashy enough to get people to buy them so the company responsible can use the device as an ad platform, content sales mechanism, or multimedia ecosystem lock-in. Some might argue that I am too cynical in this opinion, but I would only challenge them to show me some examples of modern portable gadgets that really do address specific, and possibly niche, sets of needs. Sharp may be the only company with any shred of that attitude left, but they seem to have lost their will to soldier on. I thought I had found my answer in their IS01, but it hasn't gotten any attention and seems to be too under-powered to really handle the demands that Android will make of the hardware going forward. If I find one cheap enough, I may give it a shot, but its cost in comparison to other modern gadgets that fill similar needs makes it hard to justify.
If any of you Psion hardware designers are out there and listening, please know that there are still those of us who would love a modern Revo running Android, with a small high-res screen. If you can wade through the present climate of ecosystem lock-in that threatens to kill problem-solving innovation, it's not too late to come out of retirement and fill that Revo-sized hole in our hearts.
Todd Russell
June 16, 2011
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