My parents got me an iMac for Christmas. I am shocked. Stunned. Discombobulated. I needed a new computer yesterday but couldn’t afford one. I didn’t even mention how much trouble I was having with my old one to them but somehow they knew. I am torn between feeling guilty at receiving such an expensive present and a desire to jump up and down for hours while saying iMac iMac iMac.
This computer does everything. It is somewhat ruthless in the lure of its perfection. There is no going back once you’ve experienced iMac. I remember when I went vegetarian for a few years in my twenties, I constantly thought about bacon. The smell of it. The pure, salty goodness. There is no such clinging to pleasures of the past with the iMac. It is all-encompassing with its power to place you in the now and move you forward.
I no longer need to wait for ten minutes for Word to load. I can listen to internet radio and write at the same time. I can leave a comment on any blog I choose, even Blogger ones. I can take photos of myself in embarrassing poses and change the lighting so that the wrinkles don’t show. But mostly, I can edit and rewrite and organise all the stuff I wrote by hand in 2009. Can you believe I was such a Luddite?
I have been unexpectedly thrust in the midst of modern technology. It’s a good feeling. It makes me want to do something positive, something worthwhile. To help others who were experiencing moments of down-heartedness feel better.
This computer is my Deus Ex Machina, lowered from above onto the stage that carries out the drama of my life, helping me to solve what I thought was an insurmountable obstacle.
I am humbled. I am excited.
But mostly all I can say is iMac iMac iMac.
And pretend that I’m posh and in Paris…..