How not to buy a new Mac
I remember a university friend telling me about the combined sensation of solemnity and joy he felt on those rare occasions he bought a new violin; the edginess of bidding in the auction house, followed by the celebratory drink.
Ideally, I would have a similar sensation when buying a new Mac. I’ve been using the machines for a long time, partly because I hate PCs, but largely because I instinctively went for the underdog in the computing world. I used Mac Classics to type up my degree dissertation, and since then have always used Macs at home and almost always at work (bar two short intervals). For the last two and a half years I’ve been hammering away on a very early MacBook Pro (you know - the ones that overheated, made hissing noises, had faulty batteries and power leads that caught fire). It even has scratches and dents either side of the trackpad where my cufflinks have chipped away at the paintwork.
Needless to say, I love the thing. And that’s why I was less that delighted when, after taking my 22 month old son to Southend on Friday, he rewarded me by pouring juice over the keyboard - taking out much of the left hand side.
It still works. I just can’t type without useful keys like the letters ‘a’ & ’s’. And, frankly, I think the whole point of a laptop is negated if you have to plug in an extra keyboard and find a way of sitting close enough to see the screen properly.
I’ve ordered a new internal keyboard to put in it, in the hope that might fix the problem. But, to make sure I could still work, I bit the bullet and went and spent a load of money I hardly had on a beautiful new iMac. That’s it at the top of the page. It has got a robust, wireless keyboard and I have put barbed wire round my working area.
And that’s why I’ve spent most of my weekend transferring crap from one machine to another, to the accompaniment of frustrated yells from a toddler who is desperate to destroy explore the new addition to his home.
I’d rather have saved the money and kept my laptop. You have to be happy to buy a Mac, not in a rage.
I also turned 34 this weekend. There’ll be kids out there, born on my 17th birthday, who are busy taking driving lessons. I’m feeling old. Old.
Published on 10th August, 2008
Google Maps: Walk on Water
I was thrilled to notice that Google Maps now - at long last - allows pedestrians to plan their journeys. One of the drawbacks as a non-driver was that I always found myself being told to walk along motorways, or follow unnecessary one-way systems.
So I tested it out by asking how best to walk from the Hall of Residence I lived in between 1993 and 1995 (I never forgot the postcode) to my flat. This is what it said.
Still, fair play to the new facility. It does ‘fess up so:
Sound advice.
Published on 4th August, 2008
So, you want to write a fugue?
Toccata and Fugue in D minor, J. S. Bach from musanim on Vimeo.
Published on 4th August, 2008
Excellent radio
available here.
I must buy a new wire or something to hook the laptop up to my amplifier.
Published on 3rd August, 2008
Elegantly Dressed Wednesday: L’Antisteak
“Petit traité de dandyisme culinaire.”
Now that’s what I call an Elegantly Dressed Cookbook.
Hat tip: Ace Jet 170.
Published on 23rd July, 2008
I might give it you…
Published on 18th July, 2008
Morris Men wouldn’t clone your debit card
It’s easy to knock Morris Dancing; and, to be sure, most city types simply think it’s convenient when lepers supply their own bells.
But I have to say, I’ve always enjoyed watching them dance. I’ve no idea why. And I’ve no idea why I really enjoyed these guys doing their stuff at the Tendring Hundred Show. But I did.
Maybe it’s because one can’t imagine a Morris Man being the sort of person who would clone your debit card and withdraw your money from cashpoints in the Philippines. Whoever did that with my card this weekend deserves to be beaten soundly with willow sticks.
Published on 14th July, 2008
For sale: baby shoes, never worn
Or, in other words, Ernest Hemingway’s bash at telling a story in six words. Pants has challenged me to do the same. So I have:
Wedding ring found embedded in Semtex
I tag:
Worship Street
The Little Men
Dornan (as always)
Fabio Moraes
COUTTH
Published on 3rd July, 2008
A load of old cock
And for once I’m not talking about Nando’s haters.
Apparently the BBC Trust has complained that Top Gear presenters were drinking whilst driving to - erm - the North Pole. I saw the the bloody programme. Clarkson and James May (fine fellow) cracked open some wine, cheese and foie gras whilst the presenter - whatisname, the one who always gets bullied - was busy crossing the Artic by ski and sledge. With a woman he didn’t like at all.
Excellent TV if you ask me. Though I think it’s rather telling that rather fewer people complained about the pictures of frostbitten genitals.
Published on 2nd July, 2008
The Filthy Amigoz cover The Smiths
Ms Baroque was happy in the haze of a drunken hour. Which led me to discover one of the oddest Smiths covers I’ve ever seen. It’s a trifle pedestrian, perhaps, but there’s something about men in ponchos, sombreros and false moustaches singing Morrissey’s stuff, don’t you think? You can even count them as a belated Elegantly Dressed Wednesday if you like.
Published on 26th June, 2008