This was inspired from the multitude of personals I have read, mostly on Craigslist and mostly from the insanely clever ones that appear on the Craigslist best of. Probably best described as a mutant cross between a Missed Connection a Personals and a Resumes ad. I actually posted it under resumes, in retrospect I am not sure why. You be the judge.
When first we met I was already involved with someone else. Mi Amiga kept me happy at home. But none the less there you were sitting so compact and proudly on my new desk, at my new job. You were a petite wonder, easy yet powerful. I had fallen in love and did not even know it yet. Yes you were in my System and it’s number was 6.0.4.
You were not the prettiest nor fastest in the office, but I loved you none the less. Don’t think I didn’t see those looks you gave your younger sister sitting on the desk across the aisle. Sure she had that bone white complexion. She was faster, had a whole megabyte, an 800K floppy and a built-in hard drive. But I didn’t care. You did everything I needed. You even introduced me to your earlier identities, you had them all sitting in a plastic file box, right there next to your best friend, ImageWriter-I. System One, Four and other versions of Six. I learned them all. And you were patient with me as I got my geek on. Singing to me in MacWrite, MacPaint, MS File and Word. And yes you, shyly at first, showed me your inner workings when we discovered, together: Font D/A mover. Ahhh, those were the days frolicking in bits and bytes with you.
As we played so I learned my way in keeping you running smoothly. My new-found knowledge did not go unnoticed. Soon I was enjoying the company of your sisters and brothers at the Station: SE, CX and SI.
You, your family and I enjoyed many good times together. I kept them running smoothly and they showed the the glories of a color Apple menu, Hard Drives, Quark, Illustrator and the big boy in the office: LaserWriter-I.
And through all of this I always came back to my desk and you. Ignoring the cruel comments as they floated over the partition walls:
“Only 512K? How can they get anything done?”
“Having two is nice, but 400K? Puhleeze!”
“That’s not a mouse it’s a RAT!”
But still we got along famously, writing many pages of commercial copy, memorandi and delightful humorous posters. Yes we had glorious times with MacPaint. Chicago, Cairo, Geneva we were always there and most memorable of all: We’ll always have San Francisco…
But events conspired against us. The manager of the Station announced the sale of the Station and two months later I find myself on Neptune (that City in the newest of Jerseys) using the skills that you and your family taught me o’er the last 18 months in that Mecca of mail order, that Warehouse of Mac.
Soon did I learn of your whole family. How you communicated in vast networks. There was Daisy and her chains who was most popular of all. Then there was the Bus and the Star. The star ruled by the Way of The Gator and with the help of the family of Farallon and Asante. All this, and more, did I learn.
Soon I became expert in the magical incantations needed to help you talk Scuzzy and the many ways of expanding your memory with Simm. First of the 32 and then of the 72 in all your aspects and multitude of ways.
With the tools provided me by the great Power User I learned the incantations necessary to reveal all your internal parts and systems. With the help of Torx and Phillip and the Warnings of Static I delved into the mysteries of the Board of Mothers and her retinue of assistants.
All the while you became more beautiful and helpful. First we became Savvy with the System of Seven. Shortly thereafter you took on the aspect of Eight and later still, sweet number Nine.
As this is happening I journey away from the Warehouse and come to learn you in a more corporate setting. I become a high priest of the land. My learnings they do increase and bestowed upon me is the magical paper that Certifies my knowledge in the land of Apple.
As the years progress I am gently introduced to another Kingdom. The Kingdom of Bill. And while not as beautiful nor as agreeable it is vast upon the land. I come to know of this kingdom and become proficient in it’s ways.
While my feelings for you do not fade through the years I find you less in my life as the Kingdom of Bill comes to dominate my life. Bill and his innumerable insects require from me ever more learning. Soon, bestowed upon me are those papers of great learning (and confusion) called MCSE. I gain more work and greater remuneration from the land of Bill. But my heart remains with you my first love.
Fifteen years after meeting you I find myself in a land of Silicon and Longhorns. Far away from where we first met. I find myself of two lives: the home life where you rule supreme. You serve my web pages connect me to the outside world and your stability and reliability provide a haven from my work life. And that work life is filled with sickness, spies and the ubiquitous Death of the Blue Screen. I become familiar with all incantations necessary to keep all in the Kingdom of Bill healthy if not happy. And my home life with you sustains my soul.
But in this land that I came to, escaping the vile weather of the Northeastern provinces. In this town of Silicon and Longhorns, in a village called Riata, I notice the existence of a large contingent of your home tree, proudly displaying the insignia of your clan in tasteful display upon your fortress in this village of Riata.
In hopes of catching your attention I surf the strands of your family’s web, looking for a way in, looking for a way back to my first love.
Briefly like a falling star: a position of Genius is presented for me to pluck. But it’s fruit is not sufficient to sustain me and I must do the unthinkable and decline. I am saddened but resolute in my desire to maintain a roof over my head and food on my table.
While I toil in the land of Bill I still visit weekly. Your page of jobs barren of interesting and challenging positions suitable to a man of my needs and experience.
And yet you plan on expansion in the village of Riata but mock me in your silence. Your silence that spurns as if I was some unbefitting suitor with an ugly picture on some internet dating site. Your disdainful silence, it is like a pox on my soul. What have I done for you to forsake my love? I long to leave the land of Bill (and Michael) for the land of your sweet fruit.
But to return to my first love after all of this time. Is it possible? Is it something that I should even contemplate?
Yea verily I must follow my heart and find my way back to you. So I cast this message upon the waters and pray that this, my heart writ in blood, finds it’s way into your hands. As I remain to this day.
Your Servant