Just a few days ago, a generous donor contributed Kindle #12 to our classroom. That means The Classroom Kindle Project is half way to reaching its goal.
But a complication quickly emerged. Kindle #12 required a password, and the donor did not know it.
Why? Because she’d received the Kindle from Amazon in a box along with books she’d ordered. (Crazy story!)
Yes, Kindle #12 is a mystery Kindle, a phantom Kindle! A renegade, a Kindle gone rogue. Its code needed to be cracked. Here’s what happened next:
Step 1. Figure out the password. The hint was “talkative.” So I punched in synonyms: “loquacious,” “garrulous,” “chatty,” and others. No luck.
Step 2. Try to reset the password. Amazon’s site says you can reset your Kindle’s password by typing in “resetmykindle.” So I did that. Again, no luck. Why not?
Step 3. Realize the real problem. I noticed that my passwords always came out uppercase. Then it dawned on me: The Shift key had malfunctioned. There was a little crack on the bottom left side of the keyboard, which caused the Shift key to be stuck in the down position.
Step 4. Call Amazon support. The representative told me that the Kindle was “defective,” that a replacement had been ordered, and that I needed to return the Kindle “within 30 days.” In other words: You’re a thief, and we know it. I countered by telling the representative that I’d received the Kindle through a donation, and that the Kindle had come in the mail from Amazon. He wasn’t buying my story.
Step 5. Call Amazon again. This time, a different representative confirmed that Kindle #12 was defective but told me I didn’t need to return the device to Amazon. Sorry, he said.
Step 6. Give the Kindle to a student to fix. On Friday, I summoned Antonio, Kindle extraordinaire, and gave him a seemingly impossible mission: Fix Kindle #12 by Monday.
He figured it out in less than 10 minutes. Somehow, he got the Shift key unstuck, typed in “resetmypassword,” and Kindle #12 was reborn.
I’m extremely pleased. Kindle #12 is now fully charged up, registered to my account, connected to WiFi, and loaded with a e-book library of 100+ high-interest titles, ready for a student to check out next Monday.
But will the mini-saga of Kindle #12 continue? Will Amazon Representative #1 come looking for his Kindle and demand its return? Will the Kindle’s original owner be punished for not returning the device? Or will I be tracked down?