Open Letter To Apple
Your time is valuable and my patience has already been tested, so I’ll get right to the point. I want my new fucking MacBook Air.
And I’m not alone.
There are others out there, just like me. I’m old; with deteriorating eyesight. I text people from a computer instead of a phone. I’m a loyal son-of-a-bitch who’s been rocking Macs since the mid-80s. That was back when we had to go to shitty little third-party authorized dealers and get condescended-to by the know-it-all, unironically bearded staff who looked down on us because we dared to ask a non-expert question about a product they were supposed to be selling.
I’ve been here since getting a second disk drive was a goddamn revolution. I was one of those guys who tried, over and over, for years, to convince my Windows-using friends to switch to Mac, until one by one, the stupid neanderthals finally got up off all fours and joined the personal computing age.
I put up with having fewer software options for my machines, and I waited through the never-ending series of product-delays. Year after year.
When Apple Maps drove my car into a fire hydrant, I didn’t complain. I’ve always been a company man.
Even now, I schedule around, and then live-tweet your keynotes. I get mad at my kids when they talk during a Jony Ive product launch video.
And through it all, I have lived with iTunes.
I buy all the products. I own the stock. I follow the news. I read Apple rumor sites. Every. Single. Day. When people complain about losing ports and needing dongles, I toe the company line and tell them how courageous the company is. Compared to me, John Gruber is sort of into Apple.
So, with that as an official jumping off point, I’ll ask a question: Where’s my mother-fucking MacBook Air?
Every time you take the stage to announce new products, I always get excited. And then I wait. I wait for the day when you’ll say, ‘and there’s one more thing.’ And that thing will turn out to the MacBook Air that you owe me. But it doesn’t happen. And I’m left alone, staring off at nothing, with the exact expression you had during that meeting with Trump. (At least I know you know how I feel.)
I know. The phones, the pads, the watches, those ear things I misplaced. You’ve been busy. There are even new MacBook Pros. I’m sure the kids love the clicky keyboard and that Touchbar thingy. But I’m a grown-ass man. I’m not some punk you can distract by making me ponder which version of black I want on my next iPhone. I want the same keyboard I’ve been getting the hang of for the last decade. I want the same form-factor. I want what’s coming to me. I want the best consumer computing device ever put on a store’s shelf.
I want a new MacBook Air.
(P.S. I’m a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re reading this…And excuse the typos. I wrote this on a Newton.)