I finally have an iPhone. My life is now complete: except for Donna’s old Dell desktop (which I never use), every other wirelessly-connected electronic device in the house bears the silhouette of an apple.
To some of you, Apple’s trademark may as well be the Mark of the Beast. I’ve been accused of knuckling under to conformity, drinking the Koolaid, being a surrender monkey. I plead guilty. Connectivity’s what I wanted and connectivity’s what I got: iMac, iPad, and iPhone share contacts, email addresses, and phone numbers; keychains live in the same place in the cloud (whatever that means … clearly I have much to learn). I’m a happy surrender monkey, and you know what? The 666 they brand on your forehead is up under the hairline and barely shows.
The most proximate source of my present happiness is having a cell phone with a working camera again. Two years ago, right after I bought the Android I had been using, the built-in camera quit working. There’d I be, standing in front of something I wanted to photograph and post to Facebook or Twitter, something that wouldn’t be there five minutes from now or ever again, and my goddamn Android would tell me “SD card not found.” I tried to remember to carry a regular camera with me wherever I went, but I often forgot. How liberating it’s going to be to be able to take a tiny cell phone out of my pocket and snap away!
Speaking of photos, I’ve been steadily building up my own portfolio of Tucson’s historic Presidio neighborhood, which is full of Mexican adobe architecture, colorful doorways, and interior courtyards. I’ll share a few with you here (the rest are in my Local Color photoset on Flickr):
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