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Tag: camera repair

Should You Buy that Extended Warranty for Your New Camera?

DJI Osmo Pocket in the Wild

Extended warrantees are often wasted money, until you need them. The question is should you buy them for your next camera?

With the exception of my Apple gear, I’ve not been a big fan of extended warranties for my tech. I take good care of my gear, and just haven’t seen the value of spending more money to protect against an improbable scenario.

That said, based on recent events, my perspective requires an update.

I recently picked up a DJI Osmo Pocket Gimbal, which is a small camera fused to a 3-axis gimbal stabilizer that I’ll be using to improve the smoothness of my action family videos. If I’m moving during a shot, I don’t want the framing to bounce about. And no matter how hard anyone tries to keep a camera in motion steady, there’s going to be some jitter. Gimbals effectively eliminate that. Sure, digital stabilization can help, but gimbals are the real deal.

The Osmo Pocket is tiny… It’s no taller than a pen. So you can easily carry it around with you.

And no, I didn’t buy the extended warranty called “Osmo Shield” when I purchased my Osmo Pocket.

Danger at the Piano Recital
In one of my first tests of my new camera, I took it to a children’s piano recital that my son was participating in. I also brought along my Panasonic Lumix DMC-LX10 which offers a 3x zoom. (The Osmo Pocket has a fixed lens.)

Fortunately, I found an open audience aisle seat, which would allow for a clear shot down the center aisle without head interference.

And then I had this crazy idea…

What if I recorded my son’s performance with both of my cameras? I would position my Osmo Pocket on the floor right next to me to get a great wide shot right down the aisle. And I would also capture a tighter shot with the Lumix in my hand while sitting in my seat. (Then, I would later edit the two clips together on my iMac using Final Cut Pro X.)

The look of a two-camera recording! How cool is that in a family video?!

Yes, it was a solid idea, but I also needed to test out the shot. Fortunately, my son was scheduled to perform in the middle of the recital. So I had a window of opportunity to prep the my Osmo Pocket shot. I moved quickly as the first performance began.

I paired the Osmo Pocket with my iPhone which allowed me to remotely view and control the shot. (Yes, very impressive.) I leaned over and carefully placed my Osmo Pocket on the floor and set up the shot. It was perfect.

But I missed one important detail.

The Center Aisle
I had forgotten that I wasn’t the only parent to see the value of the center aisle. And as I was the only parent to show up with a stealth multi-camera recording solution, the other parents would use a much more intrusive, but apparently acceptable camera-framing solution.

Simply walk down the center aisle with your smartphone and stand there in front of the rest of the audience to get the shot of your own kid playing the piano. (Apparently, that’s how it’s done.)

So, the piece of music ended that I was floor testing. The applause began. And then I sensed motion right behind me as a parent rushed down the center aisle to take her position before her child walked up to the piano. She was moving quickly and not looking down at what might be on the floor in front of her.

Time slowed down for me as I realized in horror what was happening. (There had been no parental intrusion for my test shot, so I had been oblivious to my massive error.)

I glanced down at my tiny, helpless Osmo Pocket.
(There was no rescue opportunity.)

For a split second, I thought her right foot might miss my camera. But no. It was like the perfect football field goal.

Her shoe hit my Osmo Pocket, and my camera went flying down the center aisle. It struck the back of one the front chairs and lay there.

I panicked.

Without thinking and as the applause still continued, I lunged out of my chair and ran to rescue my lifeless gimbal. I scooped it up and quickly walked back to my seat in front of everyone.

I sat down and the recital continued without skipping a beat.

If at First You Don’t Succeed…
I looked down in my hands and saw no heartbeat. The multiple impacts had shut down my Osmo Pocket. The lens looked undamaged and the body and gimbal seemed intact. But would it boot up and actually work?

So I pressed the power button…

And power up it did. The gimbal still functioned. And shot looked okay.

My new Osmo Pocket was remarkably… still working.

I waited for a few moments to allow my own heart beat to stabilize and then considered my next steps. Should I call it a day for my Osmo Pocket or keep going with my clearly dangerous plan?

What do you think?
(Silly Barrett)

So, I waited for the aisle to clear before my boy’s turn. And instead of jumping up and recording the shot from the aisle as I was clearly allowed to do, I returned my Osmo Pocket to the floor and then held my hand high holding my Lumix to get the tighter shot from my seat.

And most importantly, I snatched up my Osmo Pocket in time to avoid the next parental dash down the aisle.

A Second Chance to Make the Right Decision
I brought my footage home and edited the two shots together. Yes, the final edit looked really nice, but I considered the potential cost and all of that drama I had put myself through.

Would I do it again? Absolutely not.

But I realized I did have a second chance at one part of this equation…

Osmo Shield to the Rescue
DJI gives you 30 days to buy the extended 12-month Osmo Shield for the Osmo Pocket, which includes a one-time only ‘Accidental Hardware Damage Coverage.’

Clearly I need that!

As I was still within the 30-day window, I quickly resolved to spend another $33 to protect my shaken DJI device. (You don’t want to tempt fate after dodging that kind of bullet.)

Click.

The Power of Protection
The $33 bought me immediate peace of mind.

No, I’m not suddenly worry-free when using my Osmo Pocket. (Instead, I’m much more aware of any number of potential dangers that threaten the delicate gimbal mechanism when I move about with it.)

And a one-time get-out-of-jail-free card won’t get me very far over the course of the next two years if I cash it in next week.

But it does reverse the strong temptation to protect the Osmo Pocket in my pocket instead of using it in my hand.

History Does Repeat Itself
The next day, I experienced something of a déjà vu. I remembered that this was not the first time I’ve damaged a camera.

There was the “incident” when I was riding my bike, shooting video of my son riding his bike a few years back. I was holding my old Canon S100 pocket camera in one hand and steering with the other. I was following along a little too close, and he braked hard. Before I knew it, I was on the ground.

My right elbow took half of the impact and the camera received the rest of the blunt force against the cement road.

And before that, there was the time I was sitting down and holding that same doomed Canon pocket camera on my lap. And somehow, I accidentally dropped it. (A butterfingers moment)

It couldn’t have been more than a two-foot drop against the wooden floor of the outdoor mini-train ride at the Stepping Stones Museum for Children. But the camera’s articulating lens took the impact, and the lens motor mechanism jammed.

The two-foot drop sent me on a colorful journey to a repair store in New York City.  The repair cost over $100. (My bike crash killed the camera.)

There Will be Future Damage
So, this is actually the third time my flawed human actions have threatened my cameras. I know I’ve contemplated this before, but it’s finally time to take action.

So, I’ve bought the Osmo Shield plan, and now my Osmo Pocket is a camera with two paid-for lives.

Moving forward, I think it’s safe to say that any new camera should absolutely get the extended warranty… if it includes damage protection.

Because… life happens.

I Dropped My Camera. Now What?

Your pocket camera is on the floor and now a useless brick. In our disposable society, do you just buy another? Or do you navigate a repair?

Your pocket camera is on the floor and now a useless brick. In our disposable society, do you just buy another? Or do you navigate a repair?

My little boy was so delighted to be in the caboose!
The mini choo-choo train was about to begin its ‘extensive’ journey
around Mathews Park.
He was so excited!
And there I was, squeezed into the caboose, sitting right next to him.

A father and son moment.
My three year old beamed at me.
I had to have a picture.

So I carefully pulled out my Canon PowerShot S100 camera, just like I had done a hundred times before.
I turned it on and placed it on my lap.
And then I inexplicably lost my focus…
…for a millisecond.

Maybe my adventurer whispered, “Wow!”
Maybe the sun was a distraction.
Maybe aliens were trying to contact me.

But my little camera…
It just slid off my lap.

In the blink of an eye, it was on the wooden floor!

The fall couldn’t have been more than two feet.
But it fell… lens first.

I picked up my camera quickly, as if to erase the last ten seconds.

It seemed fine.
Intact.

No battery and chip guts spewed all over the floor like many a dropped BlackBerry…
(Don’t deny it…I know that’s happened to you at least once!)

My camera’s screen was still illuminated and seemingly ready for action.
I turned the device off to ensure it was still fully operational.

It was not.

The lens began to slowly recede into its body.
(It usually whisks shut.)
And then the lens just… stopped.

Frozen in its ‘on’ position.
I looked at the screen.

The dreaded “Lens Error” displayed.
And then the camera shut itself down.

I rebooted my precious machine several times, hoping to breath some life into its injured extension.

No such luck.

The power came on, but the camera just freaked out as soon as it realized the lens was immovable.

My camera was officially broken.

The train began to pull away, and my three year old squealed with glee.
Chugga-chugga, choo-choo!

I put the camera away and turned my full attention to enjoying the train ride.
Self-recriminations would have to wait till later.

Looking for the Easy Fix
That night, I went online and Googled how to repair a Canon S100, hoping to find some magic ‘reset’ solution.

The first page was filled with a recall notice from Canon.

What?!

Apparently there was a problem with the lens motor, and Canon had offered to repair the problem for free…

Yes!

…on a specific batch of the cameras identified through a range of serial numbers.
My serial number was not included.

No!!!

The Choice
So I was faced with ‘the choice.’

  • Was it worth paying to have my camera fixed?
  • Or should I walk away from my hockey puck and buy a new camera?
    (I’m sure ‘The Fall’ would void any warrantee.)

Today, the economics of repairing your gadgets can get really confusing.

They’re often cheap to buy.
And relatively expensive to repair!

I bought my S100 on Amazon last Black Friday.
So it’s only six months old.

It was a sweet deal at $229 (including an 8 GB memory card), partially because its newer cousin, the S110 had already been released.
(The S110 usually runs $399, although it’s now on sale for $349.)

How much would you pay to repair a $229 item?
It was time to find out…

I went online to find an old-school camera store that also does repairs.
Yes, they’re still out there. Just not on every corner, like Starbucks.

I decided to pay a visit to Camera Land in New York City.
(relatively close to my daily commuting route)

Entering Camera Land
I pushed open the door like it was the Wild West and sauntered over to the counter to see Reggie, the repair manager.
He looked up, barely interested.

I wanted to say, “Give me a shot of whiskey.”
Instead, I slid my metallic carcass over to him.

He picked it up and tried to turn it on.
He looked liked he’d been doing this kind of thing for a hundred years.

He spent a little more time with my dead camera and then leaned forward.

Some deactivated DNA popped on and I suddenly wanted to reach for an imaginary holster in a ‘fight or flight’ response.

The rest of me told these cranky genes to simmer down…

Reggie proclaimed if they could fix my camera in the store,
it would cost me $80.
(Okay… that seemed reasonable.)

But if the in-house repair attempt failed, he would need to send the camera to Canon’s repair center…in Canada.

Canada?!

Now we were talking $109… at least.
Maybe more…

Crossing into three digits, not to mention another country?!
That’s almost 50% of what I paid for the camera!
Those pesky genes urged me to walk out while I still had my hat on.

But buying a replacement camera was no more attractive.

The deal on the S100 was long gone.
(and now officially discontinued by Canon)
And the current sale on the S110 isn’t that compelling.

The math boiled down to this:
Buying a replacement camera would cost me at least three times the $109 repair price.
So trying for the mend seemed relatively clear.

I left my camera behind, uncertain of its future.
(Remember, Canada wouldn’t commit to a $109 lock, sight unseen.)

Later that day, Reggie called. It was bad news.
The operation was a success, but the patient died.
(His camera doctor managed to get my lens to retract.
But then it wouldn’t open!)

My camera’s only hope was to seek treatment out of country.
I gave my consent and prayed the Canucks to be kind!

Two Weeks Later…
I called Camera Land and spoke to someone new.
The guy shouted over to Reggie, who yelled back…
“It’s not ready yet!!”

I asked the big question: “How much is it going to be?”

“$109!”
(Phew)

So I gave it another week.

Eight days later Reggie called.

“Hello?”

“Your camera is ready!”

“What?”

“I said your camera is ready!!”

“I’ll be right down!!!”
(I realized I was yelling as loudly as he was.)

Two hours later I walked in.
Reggie proudly handed me the camera.

“They replaced the whole lens.”

I pressed the power button, and the lens popped to attention.
Looked good to me.

And yes, it was only $109.
(plus tax)

I asked, “What kind of warrantee do I get with this?

“Come see me…
…just don’t drop it.”
(The ‘again’ was left out, but understood.)

I walked out.

For the record, Reggie was a really nice guy.
If you decide to revive your own broken camera, and you frequent Midtown Manhattan, I recommend you pay him a visit…

Buy the Service Contract?
So you might have been asking why didn’t Barrett just buy himself a protection plan with the camera?

Well, I usually don’t buy service plans for my tech, with the major exception of my Apple gear.

I figure most service plans are overpriced, and I won’t need them…
But maybe with my evolving life as a parent, it’s time to take another look.

It’s easy to by a protection plan if you buy your tech at a big-box store. In fact, it’s hard not to. Someone from the Geek Squad usually approaches you at the cash register and tries to beat you into submission.
You have to say no about five times before your transaction is done.

But what do you do if you buy your tech online?

SquareTrade to the Rescue
Ever hear of SquareTrade.com?

You mail them your injured tech, and they claim they’ll repair or replace your item in five business days or less.
And it doesn’t matter what you did to it.
They say, “ Drop it? Spill on it? Run over it? No worries.”

Sounds pretty compelling.

And the cost?

For a camera in the $300-399 price range, the plan costs:

  • $59.99 for two years
  • $79.99 for three years

B&H Photo offers its own discount if you buy the SquareTrade plan through them:

  • $44.99 for two years
  • $62.99 for three years

That’s not bad!
You’ve just got to sign up your tech within 30 days of purchase.

The Cost of Documenting your Life
Now to the guilt factor…

I broke my camera in the line of duty as a father and amateur photographer.
(and a clumsy one, at that)

Guilt says I should have kept my camera in my pocket and avoided the risk altogether…

A couple years back, I wouldn’t take a camera to the beach,
because I feared the sand would destroy my gear.
(A gust of wind and a few grains of sand wedged into a camera lens can kill your camera faster than you can say, “Can’t wait till Cyber Monday!”)

But recently, I’ve come to embrace a different philosophy.

You’ve got to make a choice:

  • Do you take some risk and bring your camera to live your life with you?
  • Or do you play it safe and do your best to protect your camera?
    (Translation- Leave it home when the going gets tough.)

I say… Go live your life!
Enjoy it.
Document it.

Yes, that means you might break a camera or two along the way.
So be prepared.

Note to self:
My next new camera will come with its own protection plan.

And remember, whether you intentionally put your camera in harms way or not, Fate still has its own way of messing with you.

Chugga-chugga, choo-choo can happen to anyone!

My conscience is clear.

But Fate… if you can, please be kind to my Canon S100.
It’s only got two lives!