I am growing increasingly anxious about the beloved Mac PowerBook G4 12″ laptop upon which I type these words. It’s 4 1/2 years old (purchased April 2006), which is really about 90 years old (if 1 human year = 20 computer years). Functional though it may be, it is showing its age; my PowerBook definitely lacks the power and speed to effectively cope with new technology. The constant feverish whirl of the fan whines for respite at even the most basic tasks. Though I will say, despite its fatigue and obsolescence, my PowerBook is still as sexy to me as the day I bought it. Rawrh, you silver/titanium fox!
Yet as enamored and loyal as I am to my PowerBook, I’ve begun planning for the unthinkable. Over the years I haven’t been assiduously backing up files, and now I’m fearing the day when I reach for my PowerBook and it doesn’t reach back.
My hard drive had a few videos that might deserve to be rendered by posterity, so I uploaded them to YouTube. Here they are:
First, my slideshow of our New Hampshire White Mountains 4000 Footer Quest! Mr. P disapproved of my song choice of M.I.A., saying I should have chosen something more “happy,” but I felt music with abundant energy and a touch of malice was more appropriate.
I have fond memories of our bizarre trip to the Beaufort cheese factory in the French Alps, when the cream machine malfunctioned and began spewing water and steam on the tour group. “Farcical” does not even begin…
It’s no secret that I find my husband to be hilarious, especially when he’s not trying to be. This video is exemplifies why I love Mr. P so very, very much.
The previous video unfailingly dissolves me into giggles, but the next one is Mr. P’s revengeful equivalent (not a surprise, given the French proclivity for America’s Funniest Home Video slapstick). This is my third or fourth time XC skiing in the French Alps. We were filming it so we could show my father-in-law how “good” I had gotten.
From our pre-Katrina trip to New Orleans, it’s Bourbon Street! Show us your… um… nevermind (I think the crowd noise can best be described as “shrieking laughter.”)
And finally, so that you go away with a warm-fuzzy feeling… baby black bears!
