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As a quietly off-center, long-haired, former
Amiga-using bohemian type, I'm both amused and
intruiged by Apple's iMac ads. Think about it: three-step
access to the Internet, performance that rivals Intel
systems while running at a third of the clock
speed…and a lot fewer cables to plug in. In fact, every time
my feet become ensnared in the tangle of cables
under my desk, I wonder why I haven't switched to a
not-so "profusely-corded" Macintosh yet. If you believe
the ads, acquiring an iMac will transport you
effortlessly into computing nirvana.
But my brother and I received a real lesson that
remains with me. My father is a fellow who taught
himself calculus. He's not unfamiliar with
computing either. He worked on a DEC VMS terminal for
many years. He's one of the few people I know who
can count in binary in his head. A computers was
not something that would be likely to daunt him. My
father is also a fantastic musician. So these things
came together to convince my brother and me that
buying Dad a Macintosh was a really cool thing to do.
We figured that the system was very usable and a
natural place for him to work as he was really doing very
well as a MIDI musician. So we bought and delivered
a brand new Mac to him.
It was a great surprise! He was thrilled and
looking forward to getting familiar with the machine so
he could start working on his real desire of sounding
like a one-man orchestra. We sat patiently by and
delivered a mini tutorial on the way the system
worked. He seemed ready.
We weren't prepared for the phone call that
came less than two weeks later. He started with an
apology (thanks, Dad; that did make the rest of the story
less frightening) but quickly sank into a rage about
what an incredible piece of <deleted expletive> this
entire personal computer idea was. And what a
terrible fraud these things were! This thing had turned his
life into something miserable. His last request in the
conversation was "Come get this thing and get
your money back please!"
I know that his request meant that he already hated the computer on the second or third day.
Out of love and respect for us, he spent the rest of the
two weeks trying his level best to work with the
system and not upset us. We appreciated that at the
time and now we appreciate the point Dad proved to
us. Computer frustration is universal.
Maybe someday we'll reach computing nirvana. Maybe booting up will mean I've awakened from
a nap. And logging in will be no more strenuous
than plugging the cable in just behind my ear.
Maybe someday the first thing I do in the morning will be
to greet my operating system on the way to the
bathroom. But until then, we have to deal with what
we have: computers that can be difficult and
frustrating to use. A Wintel PC may not be for everybody,
but neither is a Mac. The number of cables you have
to plug in does not the better computer make.
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