The Mac Daddy Make Ya: Jump, Jump.

I'm not going to talk about how "intuitive" Macs are, though they are alarmingly easy to use. I'm also not going to go on and on about how "they just work," even though that pretty much sums up their efficiency. I won't even carry on about all the things I think they do better than a Windows based machine. For the sake of all the Mac Haters that might happen to stumble onto this, I'll spare you all the Apple propaganda that has so hardened your hearts against even considering that Apple computers are worth paying for. In fact, I'm not trying to convince anyone to convert to Macintosh. I just want to tell you a story.

Today I woke up and went through the usual Saturday routine, eating some cereal, playing with my daughter, checking email and Facebook etc. After lunch I noticed that my battery was getting low. I plugged my charging cable into the wall and then into my MacBook. Nothing happened. Normally, the little light on the cord flashes green and then turns to red to indicate that it's charging. I unplugged it and plugged it back in, still nothing. I tried checking a different outlet thinking maybe that one had given out, still nothing. It was already after noon and my battery was almost dead. I normally use the my laptop to teach Sunday School from, so at this point I was in a mild state of panic. Then I remembered that since I moved to Tulsa, Ok, there is a real live Apple store in the mall.

I quickly looked up the number and called. I briefly explained the problem and the guy told me to log onto to the website and make an appointment at the alleged Genius Bar, which I did, for two o'clock that very afternoon. I had just enough time to play with my daughter in the snow, and then I loaded up my MacBook and power cord and headed off to the mall. On my way out the door I happened to grab my iPod that had also recently been giving me some trouble. I got to the mall right on time and told the guy at the front of the store that I had made an appointment. He told me to wait at the back of the store for someone at the Genius Bar to call my name. I walked through the store and began lusting after everything I saw. Luckily, about the time I got to the back, a young bearded fellow, with seemingly heavy glasses on called my name.

I walked over and took out my laptop. I told him the problem. He pulled my computer over and plugged in a test power cable, which lit up to green and then flashed to red and began charging my battery. He said that it must be the cable and asked if he could see my cable. I took it out. He plugged it in, and it too lit up green and flashed to red as it began to charge my computer. My eyes widened with embarrassment and I explained that it hadn't worked all day. He fumbled through a door and took and a small pink iPod labelled "BATTERY TESTER" and plugged it into my USB. Some sort of diagnostics screen appeared and began process barring through some sort of test. When it was finished everything showed up green.

"Well, it's showing that everything's okay," explained the alleged genius, "Although, it does say that you've been through a lot of charging cycles." I told him that that was probably true as if he needed my confirmation of what the computer just told him.

"I'll tell you what, I'll just go ahead and replace the battery and the cord, and that should take care of it." My eyes widened again, this time in total surprise as he continued, "Give me just a second to make up this ticket." He typed away at his MacBook Pro for a few seconds and then explained that he'd be right back as he walked through that mysterious back door. Minutes later he came back with a brand new power cord and battery and began typing away at his computer some more. He didn't even ask me anymore questions. He completely just took my word for it. He hadn't even seen the charger malfunction. After about a minute he apologized for taking so long filling out all the paper work. I literally laughed out loud and told him that there is no way I was going to complain about what just happened. I made a little bit of small talk and then mentioned my iPod that had been giving me some trouble. He pointed out the guy that I could talk to after we were finished. He finished his paper work, switched out the battery, and then handed me my new power cord. I couldn't believe what was happening. He reminded me to see the iPod guy (apparently the geniuses are task specific) and thanked me for coming in, as if I had done him a favor. Genius indeed.

I walked over to the iPod guy and explained what was going on. When I try to turn on my iPod, it never fully turns on and won't seem to reset in anyway. He asked to see it and also walked through the mysterious back door. Two or three minutes later he walked back out and handed me a brand new iPod Touch and asked me to sign a paper saying that I understand that they won't do anything with the data on my old one. Again, I was completely astonished when he shook my hand and thanked me as if I had done him a real solid by coming in and getting free merchandise.

I had just enough time to make a trip around the food court for some free samples, and I got back in my car 45 minutes after finding a parking spot. I had a brand new MacBook battery, power cord, and iPod Touch, and I hadn't paid a single dime. In fact, I had been thanked for my endeavor.

If you're already a Mac, probably none of this is surprising to you. If you're not a Mac, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, nor do I mean to start a whose better war in the comments section. But, I do secretly hope that you remember this story the next time something gives out on your computer or you start to tell someone that Macs are just too expensive.

It's true that Mac snobs are rivaled only by Lost Fanatics in their blind loyalty. But, while I can't speak for the Lost Mob, I really do have a lot to be excited about. I just went into a store and got hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise for FREE, no questions asked. So, whether you're a Mac or a PC, take this story as a brief explanation of, and just one more reason why I'm a Mac, for life.

Hold Me Closer Tiny Dancer

The morning air was cold, but in a good way; a refreshing sort of way. I put a determined look on my face as if to say, "I'm going to get something done today, even though it's cold." Luckily, my coat was warm, and my pockets deep. My first task was complete: taking all my junk out to the car. I usually had my briefcase, my thermos, my lunch, and some extra books/folders that didn't make it back into my briefcase. Today, I just had my briefcase and my phone charger (since I had forgotten to charge my phone the night before).

I went back to the house for my precious cargo. Her name is Penelope. She'll be two on Sunday, and she's a real riot. When I opened up the door she was climbing into her booster chair saying, "Berfest. Berfest," which I understood to mean breakfast and sighed in mild disappointment. The household never functions very well when mommy is sick, and I was already running pretty late because I had suddenly and unexpectedly thrown up after brushing my teeth. I had considered staying home; but then, as my to-do list started running through my mind, I thought better of the idea and decided I had better get some work done today.

I managed to trick her out the door with a bowl of dry fruit-loops I promised she could have as soon as she was in her car-seat. I buckled her in and asked if she could keep from making a mess with her cereal. She nodded in agreement. I walked around the car, enjoying more of the cold air and wondering why she would only silently nod her head to say yes, but quickly shouted the word "NO" anytime she disapproved of anything.

I checked the clock as I made my first turn. I was already eleven minutes late, and I had a sixteen minute commute, plus an extra nine minutes today because I was dropping off Penelope. Plus, I left work after dark the night before and had thus forgotten to grab my sunglasses, so I was having to squint around the low morning sun as it glared off everything at every possible angle.

As I slowed down to make it through the first school zone, I began thinking through my to-do list. There must be at least two-dozen things that have to be finished today. If I play my cards right, some things can be put off until Monday. But, I'd probably be working over the weekend anyway. Suddenly, the second school zone snuck up on me. I braked hard and glanced around for black and whites. Black and whites, who am I, John Dillinger? Just like embracing the cold morning air somehow made me more of a man. Good one Wilson, just get to work already.

I pulled into the empty parking lot as Penelope shouted, "Pay Pace!" She equated her daycare with one of those giant plastic mazes at Chick-Fil-A. I contemplated this connection as I circled the car. On one hand, it was supposed to be a learning center. On the other hand, she's two, and she doesn't hate the place, so what's the big deal. I opened the car door and reached into the back seat to retrieve her. Whoever thought a two-door SUV would be a good idea? What a waste of resources.

I had to lean the front seat forward and put my foot in the floorboard behind it just to reach far enough back to unbuckle her. I took her cereal bowl and put it on the center console, hoping she'd forget about it (They eat breakfast at the daycare). I pulled her out of her seat and began moving backwards, one foot still in the car. She peeked over to her cereal bowl, but didn't whine when I didn't reach for it. Once I got a hold of her, I took a step backwards. My foot was caught in the seat-belt.

Suddenly, I was falling backwards, uncontrollably. We briefly made eye contact. She starred plainly at me as if to say, "I trust you," and then shut her eyes as I hugged her close. This I did with my left hand as I covered the back of her beautiful red head with the other. Waiting for my back to hit the ground was like waiting for an empty bottle of honey to drain. We inched toward the asphalt.

Every moment of that precious child's short life scurried through my mind. The day she was born. The three days after that in the hospital. This very morning when I had hurried her out the door and every day in between. The first time she had looked at me and smiled. The first time she first rolled over, crawled, and walked. The first time I heard her laugh. The first time she kissed me on the cheek. The first time she said, "I Love You Daddy."

The ground approached us faster, and yet, slower at the same time.

I thought of her playing her toy piano and singing at the top of her lungs. I thought of her two little arms up above her head, trying to dance like Barbie and the Nutcracker on TV. I thought of her tiny whisper voice, saying, "Goodnight, Daddy," just before I closed her door at night.

I squeezed her tight. Surely the ground was near.

I even thought of every moment that had not yet graced her life. Her first day of school. Her first piano recital. Her first basketball game. Her 16th birthday. Her first boyfriend. Her first day of college. Her engagement. Her wedding.

The asphalt was suddenly upon us. I closed my eyes in fear.

The world was silent. She lifted her eyes and looked deeply into mine. I still trust you daddy. For one brief moment, the whole world made sense. For one instant, I understood the turning of the world and the meaning of life as if I could see it all at once. "Are you okay?" I asked, breathing again for the first time. She pushed herself off my chest and stood up. She glanced over to the car and then grabbed my hand to help me up. We walked back to the car and examined the scene. Following her instructions, I leaned the seat back and forced the seat-belt to wind itself. She pointed into the car and said, "Searoe Bow Peas." "Sure, baby," I replied. I grabbed the bowl and picked her up and we headed for the door. "I love you, Penelope." "I love you, daddy," she smiled as she laid her head on my chest. All was right with the world. The world was in my arms.