It’s about time for a new computer, and after two PowerBooks, I think it’s time to go back to the desktop. My PowerBook is doing fine, but it’s out of HD space and is on the slow side, so I think I’ll hold onto it and replace it with a desktop model this summer. I did some comparison shopping among the G5 tower, the Mac mini, and the G5 iMac, and I decided that the 20-inch iMac is the way to go. I saved the model I’d customized in my Apple.com shopping cart, and figured I’d get back to it when Tiger was released, and maybe they’d have introduced a newer, more powerful model by then as well. No hurry.

Two or three days later, the phone rang at work, and it was “Shelly, from Apple Computer,” calling to say, “I see you’re interested in the 20-inch iMac G5. Is there anything I can do to make your purchase easier?” After a pause of two or three seconds, I said, “That’s kind of creepy…” to which she replied, “Well, you saved your cart online, and I’m wondering if there’s anything I can do to help. I’ll be your personal representative for this purchase, and I’ll be emailing you my contact information to help you in case you need anything.” Now, that’s very thoughtful, but I’ve always felt that Apple did well by me by being hands-off. She offered to make my purchase smoother, but I’ve never had a problem before; in fact, this Big-Brother-esque “help” was the first unseemly experience I’ve really had with the company. Part of getting bigger, better, and more successful is becoming more like your competitors, I suppose, but I’d rather be left alone to make my decisions, thanks.