WAITING FOR iBOOK

(Saturday night in San Cristobal!)

It's very quiet at night up here in the mountains, especially inside thick adobe walls.

Stepping outside, I can hear the acequia* gurgling 50 yards away, a legion of crickets, and a gusting of wind in my ear. If it weren't so cold and spooky, I could stay and listen for the distant yelp of a dog or maybe a coyote. It's overcast tonight so there aren't any stars to watch. A pity. The night before I saw the entire Milky Way stretching from horizon to horizon, stars blinking like strobe lights. Later that same night the starlight shining in my eyes woke me up! My God, does it never stop? A little overcast can be a good thing, but now it's dark. Really dark. And what was that rustling? Time to go in!

Back inside. . .No television. No VCR. The radio works great, and I'll turn it on again in a few minutes, but for now all I can hear is the soft whirring of the 8600 and a little ringing in my ears. On the shelves behind the table I'm using for a desk are boxed USB periphrerals -- a video camera and a Zip drive. They're waiting. I'm waiting. We're all waiting -- for iBook!

I know it's coming. I've been promised. I saw Steve Jobs striding back and forth on the big black stage at Macworld -- he had one! I put my hands on one at the Apple pavilion, I know they exist. They do, don't they? Tell me you've seen one. You have, haven't you? iBook, iBook. . .

We wait. We all wait.

Behold the road the UPS driver will use when he brings me iBook. He will, won't he? I hope he's honest. He could always pretend he never saw it and keep it. Or he could say the road's too bad, he can't come down here, except I know he can. Sheri said so. She said he'll open the gate, come down the hill, park right outside, and knock on the door. UPS really does go anywhere! They'd better, because well, you know. . .

To get to this place isn't all that hard, but we're still talking maybe a mile and a half of rocky dirt and dust. We have friends in Maryland who live at the end of a lane almost that long, but it's horizontal and there aren't any boulders to dodge. (The other day we came back from town just after a major thunderstorm that gave new meaning to the term "gulley-washer." As we lurched along in 1st gear, our neighbors were standing outside watching the road wash down the mountain!)

We don't even have a daily newspaper, but we have the Internet! What a world. There are newspapers, of course, but no paperboys. No papermen or paperwomen, either. Paperbears, now, that would be cool, and God knows they're all unemployed, but they'd be too easily distracted and not nearly reliable enough. No, best to just order up the Santa Fe New Mexican by mail and read the funnies a day late. The one we picked up today had a weekly TV schedule insert -- hah! If I wasn't such a lazy swine I'd already have QuickTime 4 installed and watch ABC News on the danged Internet! If iBook ever comes, I can sit on the porch and see Peter Jennings in streaming QuickTime. Yow, is this crazy or what??

Crazy to actually watch, that's for sure!

Killer mosquitos in New York City, mass poisonings, hurricanes, idiot Indonesian cops who need a lesson in democracy REAL BAD. . .I think I'll just pay attention to what's going on here, watch it rain 50 miles away. Hmmm. Hey look, there's a local item in yesterday's Santa Fe paper! Something about a middle-aged man and his 9-year daughter murdered in their sleep about ten miles away. Oh Lord! -- our landlady told us she used to get ticketed all the time until she ditched her California plates. "The cops know that if they stop a local, he'll either be a relative of theirs or have a gun." (Okey dokey, time to visit the Motor Vehicle Division!)

That might help. Then again, it might not. In just a week I've witnessed examples of driving as bizarre as any I've seen anywhere, no guns required. (Why waste bullets when you can take somebody out with your car?) But this doesn't really bother me. I understand. When I see a dusty, beat-up 15-year-old sedan pass a tourist car at the top of a hill, I know what's going on.

(Our vehicles aren't beat-up yet, but they sure are dusty. I could wash 'em off, all right, but I think I'll wait. Already waiting for iBook, anyway. iBook, iBook. "Where you at, iBook?")

We took a drive yesterday, a leisurely 130-mile loop through the mountains. (Anybody wants to pass me, I let 'em. Pull right over, calm and quiet, so I have open road ahead and behind. Much better that way, because sensory overload really affects the concentration: "Holy Jesus! Will you look at THAT! Is this really happening??" Oh, yes.) Ended up at a holy place, an ancient seat of shamanic mysteries overlaid with a crude adobe chapel. But power is power. Sitting in choked silence, watching an elderly couple crawl to the altar on their knees, we could feel it. If you can make casual conversation afterwards, check your pulse. You've probably imagined your whole life!

And so, I have a plan.

iBook needs more RAM. Everyone says so. I emailed MacGurus to ask if they were selling the 128 MB modules, since I couldn't find them at the Web site. Back came a reply with a fresh URL for iBook memory, posted that day. I took a look: $50 cheaper than anything else I'd found, so yes, miracle number one! The very next day came a message from "Gurus Support Weenies" saying "Good timing, John! Prices are skyrocketing up tonight." (Miracle number two. And so the plan? Bring about miracle number three!)

The RAM will be a fetish, an amulet, a talisman, a Macintosh mojo. Ten feet away is a heavy pine mantle slab set into the adobe wall over a corner fireplace with a shiny red enameled woodstove. I will carefully center the tiny metal and plastic wafer on the mantle in a circle of holy dirt. I will concentrate. (Concentration is easier when it's quiet.) I will burn sage. I may even chant: "Tangerine, tangerine, tangerine. . ." The spirits will listen, and they will be pleased. I will burn more sage, concentrate even harder, and then iBook will come, I know it will. iBook, iBook, waiting for iBook. I will wait, wait for iBook.

Tangerine,
tangerine,
tangerine,
tangerine.

John H. Farr also edits the Apple Computer News for Applelinks.com and invites your comments. The Farr Site Archives have links to all past columns and occasional snippets of biographical info.

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*Note: you will find an informative paragraph about "acequias" at this site!

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February 10, 2012