On Friday, I offered a little fable full of love and appreciation for the pet that has won my heart: my MacBook Pro. It was an homage to The Nightingale, a story by Hans Christian Anderson, which is a story about an Emperor who falls in love with a mechanical toy bird and spurns the flesh and blood warbler with whom he had enjoyed a long and happy relationship. I thought it was a sweet little fable, pathetic in its own way. I mean, what kind of fool falls in love with his Laptop? Shouldn't I really get a schnauzer and lighten up on the emotions I'm investing in an inanimate object?
Be that as it may, my story contained some mild complaints about the new plaything in my life -- my MacBook Air. I didn't say anything really nasty about the thing. That would have been impossible. It's a great little tool and I like it a lot. What I don't like is:
* its lack of a firewire port which makes migration of content from older machines more difficult for stupid people like me;
* its battery life, which is under what I thought it should be;
* its operating system -- Leopard -- which has trouble with printers for some reason.