An Open Letter to My iPad (with Retina Display)
Dearest First iPad,
Everyone said I needed you. Since you would be faster and easier on the eyes, I waited for you.
You were worth it.
For many, you are merely a toy. To me, you are my tool.
I admit it was love at first sight. You were beautiful, fresh and clean. Since I bought you on Black Friday, you have already helped me to be more organized and responsive to clients. Every thought I need to write down, you have recorded.
Before we met, I wrote on paper notepads – with each page having messy handwritten lists. You made it easier for me to prioritize. No longer do I have to re-write my notes or start new lists.
Giving me easy access to just about everything I need, you are a great companion. You will go anywhere with me without complaining. You even ask me, “What can I help you with?”
There is no having to open you and wait for programs to load. Utterly responsive, you are turned on with just a gentle slide. You are there at my beck and call. Even if I abandon you for days, you immediately pick up where I left off. When I switch to another application, you help me remember where I left off.
You are not burdensome and heavy like my laptop. Your screen is cleaner and easier to read. Unlike my cell phone, I don’t have to magnify your screen.
Utterly responsive, you are turned on with just a gentle slide.
But alas, you are not, nor do you claim to be, everything. I want to assure you that I accept you for what you are. While so easy to use, there is only so much I can accomplish with you alone. When I am away from home, you need my cell phone to connect with Al Gore’s invention.
Also, you are not my laptop. For you see, I craft words for a living. To write with you, I have to learn yet another program — and that definitely is not client billable.
Someday your descendents will reflect the union of laptops and cell phones. Know I still appreciate and embrace you all the same.