After literally decades of resistance because PCs were more business-like, had more software and (okay, I admit it) were cheaper, I finally succumbed to the Cult of Macs. This coincided with the beginning of Pajamas. Our tech folks were Macaholics and wanted the company on the system.
I resisted for about ten minutes. Sheryl had always been on Macs and wanted our household on them. She made the usual arguments – they’re simpler to use, they’re more attractive (undeniable), they don’t get viruses (usually) and they don’t break down.
Until last night.
Exactly four days before I am supposed to go to Washington DC for an important week of business, my MacBook went stone, cold dead. Actually not completely dead, but more than dead enough. All I could get was a white screen. This had never happened to me on a PC. (Well it sort of happened, but never quite this suddenly, without warning.) With the aid of my Mac Guru (yes, unlike my doctor, he does house calls), I was able to get some diagnostics, but that was about it. I probably have a hard drive failure and, according to my guru, the info on it is not easily retrievable. Fortunately it is mostly backed up. I’m typing this on an iMac with much of the same data and, yes, I’m a good boy with a firewire drive who (mostly) remembers to use it. Of course, there are several things I didn‘t back up, but tant pis pour moi.
But speaking of French, via the Apple “concierge” (do they think they’re running Ritz Carltons?) I was able to obtain an appointment with one of the”geniuses” at the Apple Store at the Grove. I will know more at 10:15, but do not hope for the best.
So, am I angry at Apple for causing me mucho inconvenience and wrecking a good part of the rest of my work week? Not much. I love my Macs. And I covet all the new ones. I am now officially a member of the cult, waiting for Lord Steve to reveal the next great product with its immaculate design, even if it breaks down in six months – the age of my MacBook.