Sandra Tsing Loh's relationship with products from Apple.
I’m one of those old-school, CURMUDGEONLY geeks known as the Apple-haters. Take your typical summer barbeque: there are the Apple Acolytes, or as we like to call them, the Apple-ites, standing in a happy circle in the SUN gurgling about their new Apple GADGETS—Think Up with People or the Pepsi Generation, high-fiving each other with how great it is living in the VERY special world of Apple—
Meanwhile, a little ways away, under a dark tree, two PC people are sneering.
“Hey, special APPLE people,” we’ll call out. “Did you know Orbitz quotes higher rates to MAC users than they do if you’re on a PC? Did you know those kids at the Genius Bar get paid less than checkers at Costco? How special are you feeling NOW?”
Look: I’m not saying life is PERFECT in my Staples Toshiba marked-down floor-model world. Just six months IN, my PC is ALREADY so virusey you have to wash your hands not BEFORE but after. My email inbox is crammed DAILY with missives regarding just-robbed-at-gunpoint Ethiopians, Canadian Viagra and, thanks to my daughters, a continual stream of URGENT personal correspondence from kitten-headed game AVATARS. Every week I get the plaintive emails: “Your Moshi Monster is missing you!” which puts Moshi Monsters in the same category, apparently, as the Democratic party. Every day I get what APPEAR to be personal emails from Barack, Michelle, or at one point even Sarah Jessica Parker. The subject line is always oh so casual, a la: “Join me for dinner,” “Thinking of You”-- At one point I got a note from Barack titled simply: “Yo.” That’s how close we are. He was just kinda thinkin’ of me. Yo. I totally APPRECIATE that, and I’m HAPPY the Democratic party so urgently wants to friend me on Facebook, but I’m afraid if I FRIEND the Democrats I will somehow inadvertently sic the Moshi Monsters on the re-election campaign, and send Canadian Viagra to Michelle.
I must confess, however, that I have COME to LOVE my I-Phone. In THAT instance, I HAVE joined the army of Orks marching under the banner of Steve Jobs. I can’t conceive of life—otherwise known as the daily navigation of the choked byways of Los Angeles—without it. A phone that SHOWS you the traffic? It calculates your trip time to the minute? Come on, people!
I’ve also come to love my I-Touch. The I-Touch has not just my middle-aged lady A to Z playlist—from Andrews, Julie to Zepplin, Led—but of course also the appropriately-named game favored by rageful perimenopausal dames like me: ANGRY BIRDS.
An I-PAD, though? I’ll buy one when hell freezes over!
Next week: I buy an IPAD.