Reactionary

As my hard drive dwindles to nothing, I window shop at Apple every day. Release the new Tiger, guys. Come on, Jobs. Soon, please. I need a new computer.

Why Mac? I’ve been asked that more times than I care to count. Look at the damn thing, will ya. Besides, it’s software that makes sense, no virii, no spyware, no crashes. I’ve owned 3 Macs and have never had a day of problems with any of them. And also, there’s the memory, 20 years old now, more.

It was 1984 and my father, an engineer, used to work at the University. He came home one day and said, “There’s a new computer you’re gonna love.” I was seven. I’ve never been hard core tech, but I went. He took me to one of the computer labs and sat me down in front of the first, tiny, all-in-one Macintosh. Since it was what I was into, he opened the graphics program for me. I don’t know details. I never have. I remember him whipping through the many filters like “Bullseye” and I watched the machine redraw everything. A computer that didn’t need codes, no C:/ prompt. A computer that didn’t insult you with it’s own binary knowledge. A computer that met you half way. A group of geeks who worked hard so you didn’t have to spend your afternoon unraveling the mysteries of computer language. They’d done their work so you could do yours. Typing in codes doesn’t make you smarter. And I love my Mac, and Apple, and Jobs… and my father for coming out of his world of formulas and numbers to see the new computer as a bridge for his visual child to maybe somehow, glimpse part of what he cared about.

February 10th, 2005 | Category: Life, Tech |  Print |  Send it | Subscribe to comments | Both comments and pings are currently closed