The End Of An Era

Realizing that I’ve spent the past four years dealing with a computer that, in spite of global warming, manages to keep itself frozen for the vast majority of my work day, my boss recently cleared me to buy the new 24” iMac that’s bringing you today’s post. For anyone who hasn’t seen one of these computers, let me be the one to tell you they’re…huge. Like, ridiculously huge. Like, “the last time anyone had a computer this large it was programmed with punch cards” huge. And even though I now face the daily temptation of measuring my apartment to see if its square footage is greater than the surface area of my computer screen, I’m definitely not complaining. This thing’s faster than a greased pig on steroids, and punts the “spinning beachball” icon that used to haunt my nightmares right off the damn screen. It’s doing so in the nick of time, too – I was getting awfully tired of having ‘Nam-like flashbacks of the office every time I saw kids playing at the beach. So fare thee well, old, terrible iMac – I hope you’re happy in computer heaven (see above).

The first order of business on the new computer was logging on at precisely 9AM to buy a grip of tickets for the Museum of Television and Radio’s upcoming event series at the DGA. Even though this’ll be the first year I’m catching any of the events – which feature a screening at the Director’s Guild followed by a Q&A with the creative team responsible – I’m making up for lost time. I have tickets for the nights they’re dedicating to The Office, The Simpsons and George Lucas (who gets the uncomfortably intimate ‘An Evening With’ billing) in my hot little hands, finally giving me something to look forward to in March aside from green beer.

Speaking of which, Andy, Bill and I just made our way through (most) of a three-hour orientation class on how to use our home brewing kit without killing ourselves, inching us closer to the starting line on breaking in my Christmas gift to the apartment and finally bottling “The BAR Brew”. And at the risk of stoking the ire of beer fanatics worldwide, I hereby proclaim that home brewing is the lazy man’s hobby. Basically all you need to do is boil some grain, add hops, toss in some yeast and then decant the whole foul mess into a bucket. Leave it to ferment and…well, I have no idea. This is the part we all missed, so I can only assume it has something to do with elves. Which is why our still will be guarded by bear traps baited with fig newtons, unwrapped Christmas gifts and tiny shoes in need of resoling.

And now it’s finally the weekend, so I’m off to…

Honestly?

I’m off to rent a turtle.