Thursday, October 6, 2011

A Funny Story About How Apple Computer Saved Me


My very first computer was a Macintosh Performa 5200 series. I bought it when I was ridiculously broke, had no business buying one but knew I had to for my life and my career. My friend George helped me pick it out and even warned me they were fixin' to discontinue them: the one I was fixin' to buy. Maybe I should look at a PC instead? Nope. I didn't care: I wanted a Mac! Because it made me like the "cool kids" who had them. And I'd have a personal computer to boot.

I wish I still had it and I have no idea where I lost it along the way. Oh, if I had it now, it'd be a show piece up on a shelf, of course (I work on the MacDaddy of Mac computers at work these days - I know that old one couldn't keep up, even at home)...but I still wish I had it.

In everyone's tributes to Mr. Jobs today, I read one friend's posting that he helped her to know that she could adjust to any new system, any new program, wherever she went in her career - and it was because Back Then, everyone not in design or education was on the more affordable PC instead. It's different now, but if you had an Apple computer and not in those fields, you sorta had to teach yourself. The operating systems were so different then. It was a much different time. Today, the OS between the two are so darned similar that it's easy to figure it out. Or there's always Google to help. Back in the early 90s, not so much.

I actually related to her comments: I got a Mac to "be cool" but then proceeded to work in an industry that only used PCs until these last couple of years. But as I moved from job to job, city to city even, building my career? I had the faith I could do it because I had to "teach myself" then. And I could teach myself wherever I went because I had that faith I could. If that makes sense? So, yes, thank you, Mr. Jobs.

Onto the funny story I promised.

I was here in Atlanta and shopping at a Kroger grocery store in Brookhaven once where a gentleman paid a little too much attention to me than I had liked. It was innocent at first: we both were walking the aisles, putting stuff in our shopping carts, running into each other every other aisle as I was driving my buggy up and he was driving his cart down (I'm still Wisconsin; we're buggies there). So we would make a comment now and again, have a giggle over a box of crackers or whatnot, but it was just *grocery shopping* for me. I'm sure he was a nice enough guy, but at the time, I wasn't looking to meet someone.

Didn't think twice about it until we ran into each other again at the check-out lanes. He was right next to mine, so we chatted and whatnot, and I started getting the feeling (or, being a naive girl, finally realized after, oh, eighty-twelve meetings in aisles) that he may have been interested in me. But he finished checking out before me so I wished him a good night, watched him walk away, paid my bill (which may or may not have been a bounced check at the time- I was not only naive but broke), secured my groceries and went out to my car. He should have been long gone by then, right?

Nope.

As I was walking out, he had already car'ed his groceries (let's pretend that's a word, okay?) and was *walking back in* to meet me again. At this point, even a naive little 26-year-old Stacy knew it meant more than small-talk chatter between grocery patrons. He chatted me up a little more aggressively, offering to push my buggy (not cart), walking with me to my car. And I had no idea how to handle it all.

And then we got to my car.

My darling little boxy-framed first-ever car: a 1990 blue Toyota Corolla I paid $110/mo. for that was probably worth much less but I could afford. On it, I had decals and stickers of my favorite things: a Packer helmet, a Cubs logo, a big Badger W...and the Apple sticker of the time. I was still thinking it made me part of "the cool gang," right?The translucent ones they give out now? Haven't put them on my car (I guess I don't care anymore what people think?) - but back then? Oh, yeah. I had that rainbow-colored Apple sticker on the black rubber bumper of my little boxy blue cheap-ass Toyota.

And when we got to my car? He saw it. He looked at it, looked back at me. He looked at it again, looked back at me. And then asked me: "oh! so...um. Oh! Are you one of those gay girls then?"

Heh. Guess he mistook the rainbow Apple for the Pride flag?

(Apparently he was a PC man and didn't know!)

Not wanting his advances and so the only time in my life I reacted without thinking, I told him: "why, yes. Yes I am."

And I didn't realize until much later that that could have gone ugly. Like, hate crime ugly. I was still naive. But I was also fortunate that all he did at that point was say: "oh! okay! well have a nice night then!" And he walked away. And I never saw him again. *grin*

So, yeah. Silly story, right? But when my friend Pat today made her profile picture not the translucent whitish Apple sticker of today but the original rainbow (Colors! Not! Even! In! The! Right! Order! People!), it made me remember this story. And smile out loud.

So, thank you, Mr. Jobs - for making me smile out loud, not because of your actual contribution to society (which was huge), but more as a side effect from that.

May he rest in peace.

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