No hope in Faithe
Or Faithe no more, or I have no Faithe.
Any of them will work, because this is a eulogy to a close friend.
My ever so beloved iBook G4. Who died last night around 10pm. I loved her more than any other woman I have ever had
before, and possibly after.
I got her roughly four years ago, the relationship I had with my powerbook pismo was rapidly fading, c3i was going away, I was living in a basement in Staten Island, and life was tougher than it should have been.
However I needed Faithe, I used my tax return that year, and I bought her. I didn’t know what to name her, the pismo Vikki (short for Victoria) was easy to name because I imagined if she was a real person she would be a femme fatale with long red hair, a revealing black dress, and painted up like a porn star.
Faithe, oozed something else. It wasn’t danger, and I couldn’t describe it, but when I raised the question on what to name the new companion, it was SI Headcase that came up with it.
“Faithe.” She said.
I didn’t really think about it. It just fit. Her white casing promised hope like a bride on her wedding day. So, I dubbed her Faithe, and prayed that she would last longer than some of the relationships I had at that point.
Time passed and Faithe was with me when I applied to go to the New School. Faithe was the most protected piece of Cargo I had when I left Staten Island. She was what I was furiously typing on when I was pleading for a job to test video games. She was there for my more creative moments, and she was there when I really needed a friend.
A funny story was that when we were first acquired by the big MS, I was riding the elevator with the then CEO, and a MS exec. After all the time and effort CEO expended to get the deal to go through I was coming to work with a PS2 t-shirt.
He looks at the shirt and says “Wrong team mate!”
I looked back at him and the MS guy and say, “Yeah I also use a mac at home too, am I going to be shot as a traitor?”
They both laughed.
She was two then, in people years that’s the equivalent of 50. Retirement was coming around soon. Heart attacks, and senility were on their way.
Instead of that however, she backpacked across Ireland with me. In Inishboffin as we were cut off from the world, some how the old girl managed to find a wifi signal. Teresa the buxom pollack who worked at the hostel was delighted. Faithe for a few hours gave that girl a link to her home.
I think that was the last great miracle Faithe pulled off. When we got back from Ireland her power supply was starting to get wonky, her speakers were dimming, the USB ports were spotty. I was gentle with her, I understood. She gave her all, and we had been through so much together. I begged her for just a little longer, until I can find the funds.
She started slowing down, her hard drive was full of my life. And finally, the screen turned fuzzy, she locked up, and that was it. I knew it was over.
My old boss once told me, that I was definitely a tech at one point, because my belief that computers have souls. My evidence for that was Faithe.
Like all loved ones that you have to bury, the dying is the easy part. I have to perform an autopsy, transplant an organ or two, and then finally entomb her in the back of a closet for her eternal rest.
Good-bye Faithe, there will never ever be another one like you.
October 14th, 2008 at 8:16 pm
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