Mac Attack

Three days ago, I walked into an Apple store with the intention of getting my iPhone fixed. I tell myself lies like that all of the time knowing full well that crossing the threshold into all that silver and white minimalist, Genius bar, goodness would likely result in me walking out the door with something bearing the Apple logo.

My love affair with Steve Jobs and his black turtlenecks began with the iPod. I have spent numerous hours in the throes of Asian customs queues, white ear buds inserted, jamming away like the crass foreigner that I am.

Next, came the advent of iPod with VIDEO. I didn't think it could get any better.

And then, the iPhone was debuted. I bought my first one on eBay. I bid a ridiculous amount of money, never expecting to win, and before you could say, "car payment", I was an owner. Can I tell you how much I love my phone? I'm on my fourth version.

When I first heard about the iPad, I couldn't really see the point because wasn't it just a larger iPhone? Yes, some of those apps they advertised looked mighty interesting but how could I possibly justify the purchase? Then my friend came over, showed me hers and all the neat things it could do and I coveted. A few weeks later, I went to the Apple store to "browse". I came home with an iPad.

The Apple store in all of its chaos, does it for me. I love technology, especially the kind that is born in Cupertino, CA. It's intuitive, progressive and solves problems I didn't know I had. I'm pretty sure that there are one are two ideas brewing in R&D for products that will end up on that list of things I cannot imagine life without. See, that is why Stevie boy is so successful. He's managed to create need where none existed.

This past Tuesday, I walked into the Apple store to get my phone fixed and walked out 40 minutes later with a fully loaded MacBookPro but not before I grilled my sales guy about the rumours of a fall debut of the iPad3 (which he thinks are bunk).

Apple is electronic heroin and I am an hopeless junkie.