A New Station

So, as evidenced by this file photo, I'm writing this from my new iBook G4. My father and I went to get it yesterday from the Apple Store at the new Bridgeport mall. I think my favorite part was the explanation of how to get the Airport Extreme wireless card to work. The explanation was as follows:

"So, what you're gonna wanna do is go up to the Airport Icon up at the top of the screen. Kinda looks like a slice of pizza."

"K, got it."
"K, so then you're gonna click on it, and select "Turn on Airport" from the pull down menu, followed by which network to which you'd like to connect."
"Sure thing. Then what?"
"Then the iBook performs some Black Magic and voila! Internet."
"Ahhhh so THAT'S how it works. I always wondered what set Macs apart."

In other news, I sold my trumpet yesterday for about a grand. After fees of course, and shipping, I'm going to wind up with about $900 in my pocket. Which is good, because that remedies the monetary bind I've found myself in. On the other hand, it puts me in something of a nostalgic, ethical/moral debate about selling off something which was at the heart of so many memories for me. My parents brought up the idea of selling it a couple months ago, along with my electric guitar, both of which I have/had serious reservations about letting go of. I mean, seriously, I played trumpet forever and ever. So, letting go of them is akin to accepting that part of my life is gone. I guess I kinda wanted to hold on to those things forever, I have visions of opening a case in my attic when I'm 60 and finding my old horn, or having my grandkids pick it up and start playing, that sorta sappy thing.

But hey, think of it this way. I sold my childhood memories for a plane ticket to the rest of my life. Fair trade...I think.