The Phrase "Feature rich" is almost an oxymoron
It's always an interesting concept and reminds me of my recollection growing up when I learned the difference between "feature rich" and its counter part "skill set poor."
My father was a gifted carpenter; a master carpenter and builder. He had many tools, of all shapes and sizes, quality, make and complexity. But the simplest tools were his favorite as they gave the most control for he truly knew his craft. With a keen understanding of the all the subtle nuances of his trade, and of the tools and materials he worked with, the results he produced were second to none.
I will never forget building our cabin together (more him than I to be sure) where I learned a hard and embarrassing lesson. A scrap of sand paper forced me to swallow my pride.
With every swing of my 'real' tool , a 28 oz steel handled framing hammer, I would bend another nail or take 6 swings to drive one home.
And I cursed the world!
All the while Dad swung his 'simple' tool, a 16 oz wood handled finishing hammer, in silence. Three strokes and every nail was home, straight and true. (Yes, that same hammer and leather apron pictured above were his, now mine, and used today.)
Sensing what could only be described as blind rage after hours of frustration I threw my hammer into the brush claiming I needed a better one! I wasn't stupid, surely I could pound a nail! The hubris of an eighteen year old knows no bounds.
After dad retrieve the wayward hammer (yup, him not me to further prove his point as I would find out), he offered an exchange. Surely his hammer was much better as evidenced with my own eyes by his performance with it! I eagerly accepted and immediately bent another nail. Much to my delight, dad also missed on his first stroke as he glanced off the side of the nail! Retribution! I was right! it was the hammer!
With his thick mustache obscuring a silent smile he looked at me and took a small scrap of old, ratty, sawdust covered sandpaper from his apron and lightly brushed the hammer's head. Taking aim, two strokes and the nail was home. Then again, this time looking at me, not the nail, two strokes and another one was home, straight and true.
And I cursed the world!
I swallowed what little pride remained and gave him back his finishing hammer. Yah, it took three swings instead of two to drive a framing nail home but he could swing it all day, and all night (and often did). But he preferred it, being lighter and easier to handle. This same hammer that he used for framing was used for fine finishing cabinetry, oak mantle pieces, book cases, you name it. I now realized the magic wasn't in the hammer - much to my disappointment.
Sure, he had power nailers, air guns you name it, but those 'feature rich' tools were no substitute for 'skill set'. And my lack of skill, no matter how good the tool, always produced inferior results.
So now, when I think I need a better tool with more bells and whistles, I stop and look carefully at the situation. Then I look at dad's hammer sitting on my book case next to my office chair. Then I reach for a metaphorical piece of sand paper. More often than not I learn something new about what I already have.
After all...
The Magic Isn't in the Wand... it's in the user (i.e. the Magician, Artist, Craftsman, etc.)
