Gone Apple

In the cooking world, it’s called “Gone Bamboo.” Amongst musicians, it’s “Gone Acoustic.” But for an even rarer, strange breed, we have a thing called “Gone Apple.”
And as I sit at home typing this on a brand new Macbook, I feel it’s safe to say I’m there.

It’s a strange sensation to stare at the pearly white plastics, the high res screen, and the unfamiliar barrage of icons, particularly when you know they now belong to you. Especially when you consider the long standing lineage and reputation that Macs, and the owners of Macs tend to put out. I’m not nor have I never been, aside from one shameful year in Junior high, a turtleneck guy. And though I grandstand.....quite often, I don’t understand the image of owning a Mac as any kind of positive element of my being. I’m just too damn dumb to pull off intelligent and classy. And spending a huge chunk of change on a piece of fancy computering seems to defend my stupidity more than rebuke it. Still, while I may not be the stereotypical “Apple Guy” I cannot deny that I am now a guy who owns an Apple.

I suppose in my history, I have been no stranger to Macs. I’m almost positive that the first bit of computer I ever fondled was an Apple. One of those old green screened Apple II’s I believe. I wasn’t a computer person by any stretch of the word, and my interest in the field was limited to brief runs through “The Oregon Trail.” But, it was the first, so I suppose that’s something. Still, as far as the lineage goes, I’ve been a PC guy. Not a devout one of course, I would never say I’ve been one of the faithful. I’ve never defended the good name of Microsoft, nor have I preached the gospel of Gates. For me, it was always a matter of having what was available, and making it work. It was hard to go anywhere and not find a PC, so that’s what I used. The more I did it, the more comfortable I got with it. Pure and simple.

When the time came for me to seriously shop for a new computer, it was all but a given that it would be a PC. I’m not gonna screw with comfort, and besides I knew I was capable enough to know how to keep the things running. If I had managed to keep a seven year old sub-gigahertz Hewlett Packard trucking along, then it was a pretty safe bet that I could probably manage on something newer. Anything else might take work, I can’t have that.

So it was to be PC, no questions about. That is until, the change. The shift in mentality that spoke as loud and clear and Zeus with a megaphone, that I would be owning a Mac. I fought it as hard as I could, believe me. I’m not one who puts a lot of stock into the appearance of my useful trinkets. And Macs had the aforementioned image with them. Mac owners are supposed to be one of those egg headed hippies with long hair and horn rimmed glasses who preached about baby seals and drank organic apple juice through a bamboo straw. This is clearly not me. I’m more likely to eat these people and wear the fur than discuss something so bonding as a computer. So, I fought the change, tooth and nail. But still, in the end, the change won.

Two things happened to fuel the change. The first, was my beloved Mrs. Boogie getting herself a Mac. She had wanted one for some time, and though I couldn’t understand why, I bought one for her. I mean hey, just because I think she’s making a bad choice doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a nice guy right? Besides, this was her laptop, not mine. It didn’t have to impact my life at all.

That’s what I said, and admittedly I did try to stick to it. But, when her laptop is the only computer in the house that’s getting an internet connection, well some impact is going to be involved. So I used it, and of course, I hated it. Hated having to learn different ways of doing things is annoying, and I was disgusted with all the little ways I had to adapt my habits to this damned computer. Only one button on the track pad? What kind of crap is this? And what’s with this Command button shit? In a word where Ctrl has been the standard for alternate keypad shortcuts, inventing a button and then having it replace the welcome efficiency of the standard clearly shows the deranged mind of a sick fuck. I was bitter and spiteful at Apple, and my squinted eyes and gritted teeth constantly reflected in the little webcam above the screen.

And then one day, I don’t know when, the bitterness stopped. I didn’t argue with the computer for the length of my session, and I didn’t loathe the pain that would be waiting for me every time I turned it on. Amazingly, through frustration and annoyance, I had learned how to operate a Mac. I now understood the quirks. I didn’t think much about it while I was on the thing. I just knew I could check my emails and watch Strongbad videos with a little less fuss. But, when I returned to my humble PC, then it became clear how much the Mac mentality had affected me. I was dual fingering the track pads of other laptops, feverishly annoyed by the fact that the screen wouldn’t scroll. I tried desperately to clean up my desktop, only to find myself more and more frustrated by how ugly all those damned yellow folders looked. And suddenly the Ctrl button, my home base and comfort zone, seemed harder to reach. It took more effort, more stretching of finger and knuckle, to connect with. And now I could kind of see why the Mac faithful were so devout. There was indeed a simplicity to it. A kind of natural functional balance to the whole thing. I could appreciate it now.

Didn’t mean I’d buy one though. Oh no, those overpriced things were far beyond my mental reaches of practicality. And while I could be a little more understanding of those few rare souls who would own the things, it still wasn’t for me.

That was until the second thing happened. The thing called Vista.

I usually don’t invest a lot of time reading into the early reviews of products that aren’t even available on the open market yet, but there were some key words that were swaying the bridge. There were words like “pretty,” and “clean” and “detailed” which mean absolutely nothing to a guy like me. But there were also words like “cumbersome,” “complicated,” and “memory hog,” which isn’t a word per say, but still managed to fill me with dread. When I actually sat down on a Vista machine and gave it a try, my worst fears were realized: This beautiful piece of technology is a big pain in the ass. It was the equivalent of a beautiful woman who talks through her nose about things like fashion designers and Starbucks. This program made me think people, and you know how I don’t like to think.

Sadder still, was that even though Vista was a fair bit more attractive, I still liked the clean stylings of Mac’s OS. It was simple and efficient, both things that are hard to hate upon. And when you couple that with how Microsoft was treating XP like a knocked up teenager showing up at a tupperware party, trying desperately to get it off the market before the rest of the intelligent world realized what a horrendous piece of crap Vista was, my next step became clear to me. It was time to jump off this train before things inevitably got ugly.

So here I sit, a turncoat, a Benedict Arnold. Like I say, I was never truly loyal to Microsoft, in the way I’ve been loyal to say, bands and artists. But, it definitely feels like I’ve done some abandoning here. Like somehow, I’ve betrayed my past and experience to flirt with the latest thing. It’s an ugly feeling, particularly when you sit staring into a pricey new world. A world that I’m now forced to learn the ways of. Soon, I will speak the language of the Mac. I’ll have to, otherwise I won’t get anything done. But perhaps, in the end, change is good. It shakes the foundations, tests where you’re strong and where you are weak. A little chaos is a good thing I suppose.

So long as I don’t go hippie.