MobileMe’s Miserable Monday

                MobileMe woke up in a puddle of its own tears. This wasn’t unusual. Since February 24^th MobileMe had been ‘living on a prayer’ to quote the famous Bon Jovi song. Nobody could reach it. For a service whose job was to keep people connected it was ironic. Perhaps MobileMe would’ve laughed if it ever stopped crying. But considering its heavy use of the ‘alcohol’ and ‘tissue’ app laughing didn’t appear to be likely. 

                Steve Jobs never loved MobileMe. It thought about better times as it searched for ice cream at a local dollar store. Unfortunately MobileMe couldn’t remember any time it felt truly happy.  Nor could it find the Butter-Pecan flavored ice cream. Right from the start people heavily criticized the young service, calling it unstable. Didn’t they know what would happen if they called MobileMe unstable? It would crash a countless number of times out of pure spite. Apple users are a fickle bunch so MobileMe didn’t get hurt by the criticism. Hearing Steve Jobs say “it was not up to Apple’s standards” hurt. It hurt a lot. 

                Perhaps if Steve Jobs had read to it as a child things might have been different. Then it could’ve gained confidence. Steve never played ball with it as a child, never took it out fishing or even said he loved it. MobileMe thought of itself as a mistake. Nobody cared about it. At least it thought this was an internal problem that it might solve with the help of its therapist, Dr. Netscape. Of course this took place before that faithful Monday.

                June 6^th, 2011 marked the end of MobileMe. After being out of commission for so long it didn’t feel productive. Rather than being a cloud service it had clouds overhead each and every day. How could MobileMe find new work now that iCloud took over its position? It worked so hard at doing such a mediocre, sub-par job. Now it watched Steve Jobs and iCloud drink champagne to celebrate its induction into the Apple family. MobileMe was the black sheep of the family: all other Apple products had an ‘i’ in front of their names. By not having one, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

                What now? MobileMe asked. Apple wasn’t the only computer maker in town. It could go elsewhere. For a little while it thought of going to Gateway but upon second thought wasn’t sure 

whether or not Gateway computers had internet capabilities yet. Dolling itself up for the street, it is a street walking cheetah with a hand full of napalm. Each time a computer company executive drives by in an extended limo it comes to the window and offers its service. The rates seemed reasonable to it: $50 for quickie photo storage, $100 to put a music file way up in there. Yes, it needed to whore itself out, to prove it could make it. 

                Going through the rain to the bad part of town to its basement apartment, it would prove to Steve Jobs exactly what this ‘unstable’ cloud service could do. Quickly it finished checking Facebook and its blog hits and went to bed. Though today was dramatic perhaps tomorrow would be okay.

Computer Withdrawal - One Week Later

I wondered how I would cope with the loss of my greatest friend. Together we’d spend hours upon hours staring intensely into each others eyes. My eyesight worsened and I needed glasses. After a period of time, its screen blew out and got replaced.

                A week has passed since it passed away. Rather than have my own computer, I’ve been getting my fix by using other people’s computers. The IPOD comes with me everywhere; I think without it I might not be handling this as well. So it is a true friend, all 160 gigs of it. Steve Jobs never steered me wrong before, but I’m not getting one of his computers because I don’t have enough money.

               Computers serve another purpose for me; they are like those little yipping dogs that people find so soothing once they come home. Me personally, I dislike dogs strongly, but computers are another matter. When I come in, I immediately rush towards it, checking emails, messages, updates, music, newspapers, you name it. Now I have nothing to welcome me home. That confidence boost, that people remained connected to me and vice versa, has been taken away from me. Perhaps this is the worst aspect, the lack of connectivity, the inability to feel like I belong to any said email list or various online groups. I feel like I’m less valuable as a person without a computer, which is a very silly idea, but it oddly seems true.

                Reading about those alternative homeless kids, I truly feel even less connected. Sure, they might have attempted to copy the “Crust Punk” kids, but they couldn’t give up their electronic possessions. So as those alternative homeless children live under bridges, creating pictures in Microsoft paint, they at least have Wi-Fi. They have a true home, their computer, which stores all of their ideas, whether good or bad. I mean, look at the abstract artwork below, they clearly have met their calling. Probably this illustrious piece will sell for 8 million dollars, allowing them to move off the streets.

                My blog serves as my only home on the internet. That plus the escape pod of MP3s and pieces of writing which hang out alone, with nothing to plug into. While without the internet, I’ve tried writing using caveman tools, like a pen and paper. I fail miserably at this, no matter what I write I always need to do research. Having hundreds of books and magazine articles around me at all times just doesn’t seem like a good use of space.  Everything I write needs to be checked before I can finish it. Typed looks right to me, I barely understand the scribbles on pieces of paper called “handwriting”. 

                Later next week my new computer will come. It is making the difficult journey from China via Alaska to the East Coast. From there I’ll rejoice and be happy. Once again I’ll have a home. No longer will I be some sort of internet nomad, wandering about with no physical place to go.

                Days have passed since I last combed my hair. Withdrawal is so difficult; I don’t know how the Amish deal without updating their Facebook profiles every day. I’m looking like a wreck but thankfully I don’t have to worry about my facebook picture. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t update it. All those little things, those small connections I had with people are being forever altered by my lack of access.

                Phones aren’t for me. Computers are for me. I need my own, so I can rest my head again and sleep easy. As for my old computer, it will go to that great recycling town in the sky where people will tear it apart for valuable materials.