Yesterday I ordered a Mac. My current computer was my college graduation gift, and uses both AOL and dial-up, so not only am I a dinosaur, I’m an Amish dinosaur. I typically upgrade my electronics about once a decade. I think this is sort of a Brown thing—we clung to our Betamax until I was a freshman in high school, and my first car had an 8-track player. It was landmark that 2005 saw me upgrade my cell phone AND purchase a DVD player, because I still own and operate a walkman on a daily basis. But now that I’ve officially ushered in the dawn of superior computer technology, it’s going to be like freaking 1997 up in here.
This upgrade was a long time coming, a mixture of two parts being poor and one part being lazy, but the switch to the Mac was something else altogether. I had an iMac and an iBook at my first advertising job back in 2000, and liked them both just fine, so it wasn’t a fear of the unknown that kept me from switching; it was the fear of becoming a Mac Person.
I was very wary to cross this line, convinced that once I owned an Apple product, I’d have to start typing all in lowercase, wearing scarves indoors, and listening to a lot of Belle & Sebastian. I’m aware that this is my own skewed stereotype, because about 90% of the people I know and love own Macs, and not one of them makes me choke on twee. Clearly, this is all in my own head, but it loomed very large in there: it made perfect sense to me that I could not own a Mac simply because I like dive bars and men who don’t put product in their hair. I realize this is akin to calling someone a fag because they don’t eat meat. Basically, I’m the Archie Bunker of computers.
I think a lot of this comes from the annoying iPod commercials, and just the interior of the Apple store itself—it’s all brightly-lit and full of right angles, and free of clutter or any human involvement, like an IKEA catalog fucked Annette Bening. I do not feel comfortable in the Apple store; I feel like I should lint-brush my clothes.
Anyway, I got over all of this, mostly due to my friends pointing out that my computer wouldn’t live inside the Apple store, it would live inside my bedroom, and while it lived inside my bedroom, it would basically be a home entertainment system that also allowed me to write emails. This really spoke to the lazy bigot inside of me, so hell yeah, sign me up. I’m not even ruling out an iPod purchase somewhere down the line, but I’ll make a blood oath right now that if that day comes, I’ll buy some giant headphones to go with it. I’m not having any of that tiny earbud crap. I generally demand my electronics cased in gleaming polished oak, and so large that you can smell whether they’re on or off, so let’s baby step this one.