iCentury

Yesterday was Father's Day, and I had a nice brunch with my dad, sisters, grandfather, uncle aunt and cousin. For future Father's Days, I will make sure my siblings and I cook whatever communal meal is required so we can skirt the half-billion-dollar buffet prices. Overpriced food, however, is not my main focus today. After brunch, we went to Rosedale Mall. I was already late for work, and a little anxious to get there for fear I might be fired and have to eat my clothes to survive the summer. There must be some primal fear surrounding the thought of me naked and starving that just keeps me from flipping off my boss, making a pass at that good-looking woman from accounting and walking off with $100 in post-it notes. Wait... that's not my life. Nevermind. So, at Rosedale, we walk in to the Apple Store, which for those of you who have been living in a cave or who are receiving this transmission from other points in time and space, non-terrestrially, is the mosque of Steve Jobs' caliphate.

Alright, don't take me too literally. I'm not trying to say Steve Jobs is a muslim, but like the first of that kind, he certainly has created a following. The Apple name is as ubiquitous now as Ford was when cars first came in to popularity. You'd be hard pressed to walk across a college campus, business place, home in the United States, or even Europe, East Asia or the South Pacific and not find an iPod, an iBook, an iPhone, an iProduct of some manner. It'd be like going to sea and not finding water - just can't be done. So back to the narrative, we walk in to the Apple Store, and I had genuinely expected us to be there to get Dad a set of replacement headphones (since I took his to college and lost them). This however, was not the case. Instead, a sales person or I'm sure they called him something very Apple-esque, comes over and my father and this man start talking. "Peter," says my father, "did you bring your student ID?" "No," I reply, "I never carry my wallet with me." (Important piece of information for all future muggers - don't bother with me, it'd be like an eagle trying to carry off a cow. It isn't practical for either animal) "Well then how can we get you a new Macbook?" says my father. "Huh?" I say dumbly. Then the gears start working upstairs and I realize that there is an ulterior purpose to my being there.

Well, long story short, I have now submitted, surrendered to the Apple. I now bow to the west five times every day, facing Silicon Valley, and will one day before my death make a pilgrimage there to look upon the splendor of Creation. Maybe I've got my religions and corporations confused. My bad. On the plus side, I have a new computer! In the interest of time and interest, and because the Rockstarship is running out of fuel at the moment, it just so happens the rest of this story can be addressed in the Q&KaBAM! Timezone.

Q&KaBAM! Time

Ann Lamond of Baltimore, MD in the 44th century writes,

Q: "Commodore, I work at the National Archives, and I came across transcripts of your adventure journal. Writing across time and space, I wanted to ask you why if you have a computer already do you need another one? Granted, everyone in the 44th century has at least five of everything, including thumbs."

KaBAM!: "Ann, you're changing events in history by writing to me, but who am I to say what's correct or not? I enjoy my computer very much, my big black Nobilis peppered with bumper stickers and mismatched keys. It's like a plucky little racehorse that will certainly never win the Triple Crown, but won't be left in last place either. However, like a racehorse, it is loud, heavy, gets hot quickly, can only run so long on its own before collapsing, doesn't connect with the outside world well and incidentally the screen has gone wonky just yesterday (It's bizarre to see that on horses...) The Macbook is like a Bugatti in comparison - sleek, slender, subtle, goes places, does things, picks up my groceries. And by the time I go to France, I should have liked to have had a new laptop, because mine is five years old and technology in our day and age rarely stays top-notch that long. So soon, I shall bid goodbye to my old laptop, my magic box, and take up life with the white pearl."

To be honest, I'd be happy with a typewriter. How do I fit into your demographic models now? Ahahahaha!