With the purchase of an iPhone, I am now officially a Mac convert. I’ve been handed my Kool-Aid, fitted for my Keds, and had the plugs inserted into the back of my skull that convert my life force into energy that powers Steve Jobs’ 150-foot robot that protects Cupertino from alien attacks.
It didn’t take long for me to warm up to the expensive little device. Much like the brain of a woman who just gives birth relieves her of the memory of the horrific pain of pushing a squirming infant out into the world, I immediately forgot the wallet-destroying task of signing up for the plan when it took me 30 seconds to sync my email and calendars up. With Google Sync, instant access was achieved and, shockingly, everything simply worked.
After years of dealing with Microsoft products that sputter and wheeze when performing basic tasks, using Apple products has been a dream. Naturally, entropy sets in to anything, and nothing works perfectly always, but you’re willing to forgive the occasional annoyance when the general experience is 90% smooth and steady.
I’m actually looking forward to using the thing, and it’s hard now to not look at my previous cellphone as some kind of prehistoric cave tool.