Have You Got A Light, Mac?
Last night a friend came round to take my old iMac to a new home. I hope he gets good service out of it, but if it does turn out to be on its last legs nobody's any worse off.
Although I never felt the same sentimental attachment to my G5 as I do for my previous Mac, a G3 in Ruby which has undergone five house moves with me and counting, the handover did feel rather like giving a pet up for adoption: here's its box, and here's its mouse, and here's some software to be going on with...
Meanwhile, I'm still getting the hang of the new beast. It claimed it couldn't find quite a lot of my music, so I hunted down the mystery folder where it had hidden itself and dragged the files over. iTunes said 'Importing track 1 of 536' and went very quiet for about twenty minutes, like a boa constrictor eating a cow.
I am, I confess, rather in love with the new Mac. I rush home from my day job sitting in front of a computer to go and sit in front of my computer, and spend even more time than usual pointlessly surfing the internet, just for the pleasure of communing with the shiny. Basically, it's a fetish object and everything you've heard about us Apple people is true.
Although I never felt the same sentimental attachment to my G5 as I do for my previous Mac, a G3 in Ruby which has undergone five house moves with me and counting, the handover did feel rather like giving a pet up for adoption: here's its box, and here's its mouse, and here's some software to be going on with...
Meanwhile, I'm still getting the hang of the new beast. It claimed it couldn't find quite a lot of my music, so I hunted down the mystery folder where it had hidden itself and dragged the files over. iTunes said 'Importing track 1 of 536' and went very quiet for about twenty minutes, like a boa constrictor eating a cow.
I am, I confess, rather in love with the new Mac. I rush home from my day job sitting in front of a computer to go and sit in front of my computer, and spend even more time than usual pointlessly surfing the internet, just for the pleasure of communing with the shiny. Basically, it's a fetish object and everything you've heard about us Apple people is true.