Stitchpop

They're threatening to take away my iMac at work, which has me a little rattled.

Granted they've been talking about putting all the writers on PCs for years now, but this time they're bringing in a PC to put in our common area for us all to "try." This sounds like IT's way of saying, "Here, you stupid, whiny Creative crybabies. Acclimate yourselves to the inevitable so we don't have to listen to your Mac bullshit anymore."

I love my iMac . Not just because it makes me different and special in a wide sea of uniform PC users. But because the iMac is beautiful and elegant, sophisticated and loyal. It's kind to small animals and homeless people. It often donates to the March of Dimes. How could they take such a loving, affectionate machine and replace it with a cold, soul-less PC?

Besides, if they get rid of my Mac before I get an iPod, the Mac would be heartbroken.

Oh, you were wondering about the iPod link over on the left? Funny story, that.

It all started several years ago when the iPod was born and I began to lust after it.

The iMac and I have grown to develop a deep, shared appreciation for all that is sleek, elegant, and efficient. We love birch trees. We love spheres. We love the Dodge Viper. We love evocative, austere color palates. We love Scott Patterson.

One day, a coworker of mine came into the office and set something small and white on her desk. My iMac gasped.

“I love her!” he whispered.

“You love Mandy?” I asked, thinking it might take a lot of convincing to get me to see that point of view.

“No! Her.”

I looked closer.

There, upon her desk, was a small, white, elegant iPod with its striking circular control and long, spindly earpieces. And I loved it. I loved it so much that when Mandy told me she'd paid $500 for 5 gigs it actually didn't sound that bad. Not that I had $500 lying around. And then three months later, Mandy was cursing because the 10GB iPod came out for the same price. Then the 20. Still… not like I was any closer to having $500.

All the time I watched Mandy playing with her iPod, the "free iPod" spam taunted me. The banner ads mocked me. They almost wore me down, but I held out.

I work in advertising. I know the lingo. Promises are relative. Nothing is free. I tried to put the iPod out of my mind.

Then, a few weeks ago, I got to talking with my brother J. Somehow, the subject of iPods came up. I joked, "Hey, we should just get 'free iPods' by clicking on those ads!"

"Yeah, my roommate actually did that," said J. "It does work. He got one."

Huh???? It's not a scam? Why, then, do I not have my iPod?

I felt a little dirty, but when I got home I went ahead and clicked through one of the banner ads. It turns out there is a hoop to jump through, but there's an iPod at the end of it. Sign up for an offer and refer five people who also sign up for an offer. Okay, that sounded painless.

So I signed up. And it was remarkably painless. But because I do have shame, I'm not going to go around asking people to sign up for stuff on my behalf.

My blog has no shame, however. Especially that sidebar. I've seen it take off its shirt for a longneck and dance on the table. It also sings karaoke. So it has graciously volunteered to hold the link for me.

And if you're like me and you'd do just about anything for an iPod, go ahead and click over there because it beats dancing on a table.