Welcome Back to the Cult: by Victoria Bell

July 15, 2009 by Mark Taylor

Welcome Back to the Cult: (a guest post by Victoria Bell)

“Welcome back to the cult”, someone merrily Tweeted the afternoon I won the Mac. “The cult?” I wondered. A couple of hours later, another Tweet: “Welcome to the cult!” I knew Apple was way cool, but the fans seemed even more jazzed than I was. What did they know that I didn’t?

The box lay quietly on the dining room table, waiting for me to overcome my fear of the unknown. It seemed too light to actually contain a computer. Several thoughts ran through my mind: Was it going to be confusing going from PC to Mac to PC? What about all of my documents, spreadsheets, email, contacts? Would I have to use my PC for business and my Mac for play? Ugh. It made me tired just thinking about it.

Until I opened the box.

The notebook’s soft, silvery luster was smooth and cool to the touch. It felt solid and reliable. As a former electro‐mechanical drafter, I fully appreciated the work that had gone into the design and manufacture of the aluminum unibody chassis. Elegant is the only word to describe it.

“Even the power adapter is cool”, I noted. Two enclosed booklets, Everything Mac and Everything Else, would prove to be of actual value.

Literally, within minutes of turning on the computer, I was up and running. OK, I was up and playing. My step‐daughter and I were soon hamming it up for Photo Booth ‐ ‐ riding a roller coaster (hands up, of course) and warping our faces into aliens. Big, big fun. We happily wasted a couple of hours exploring just how silly we could be as virtual talk show hosts and video bloggers.

The two days at WordCamp had turned me into a Far Side cartoon character: a not‐the‐brightest‐bulb‐ in‐the‐box kid raising his hand: “May I be excused? My brain is full.” It was late Sunday evening and time to vegetate.

The Marine and I decided to test the Mac’s proclaimed battery life (up to seven hours, the Apple website promises). Experience on long, international flights had taught us to carry an extra battery if we wanted to watch a movie on the PC. Figuring I would drift off early, I told him to choose the films. It was no big surprise when he returned with Lethal Weapon and Lethal Weapon 2. Yes, I’d be asleep in no time at all. Zzzzzzzz. Side note: I was awestruck by the simplicity of the Slot‐loading Super Drive. Again, what superb engineering!

In the morning, I awoke to find my new electronic pal on the nightstand. I checked the battery life and pleasantly discovered there was plenty of juice remaining. I wandered into the kitchen where the Marine was making coffee. “Did you make it through both movies?” “Yep.” He replied. “I like that Mac. Maybe I’ll take it with me on my next trip.”

Hmmm. We’ll just SEE about that. You’re talking to a cult member, now, buddy.



WordCamp Dallas 2009 Macbook Pro Contest Winner!

July 1, 2009 by Mark Taylor

WordCamp Dallas 2009 Macbook Pro Contest Winner: 


Considering the desire to pick someone worthy of the prize, I cant imagine someone better than Victoria to go home with a brand new Macbook Pro.

The following is derived from the email and attachment from Victoria Bell as she related her experience.

Enjoy,

Mark

 

Victoria’s email:


Hi, Y’all!
 
I just wanted to share an experience borne of the wonderful power of networking.
Peggy introduced me to Teena, Teena told me about WordCamp, where I won a MacBook from Mark!
I met Lynn and Missi on Saturday, who both were so NICE and didn’t let me eat lunch alone.
 
Thus far, I’ve signed up for GoDaddy hosting and installed WordPress, but I still don’t have a CLUE as to how to actually publish my first blog, so you get this low-tech, email version.

So, here it is, and thanks to each of you. I’ll alert the media when MindOverMiddleAge finally launches J
Philippians 4:8
 (Yes. You have to look it up.)
Victoria Bell 

Victoria’s email attachment:

I usually try to maintain an ‘attitude of gratitude’. Not claiming to be wildly successful at all times, but the key word is ‘try’. (Sorry, Yoda ‐ ‐ it appears in my vernacular more often than you would approve of. Having journeyed through the land of unemployment and self‐employment for the last ten months, some days, being thankful requires conscious effort. Today, there is no try. ‘Thank you, Lord!’ is the headline banner scrolling across my forehead right now. I had no expectations as I entered WordCamp 2009. I was given a name badge, a T-shirt and a raffle ticket. Two weeks prior, an Aromatherapy Meetup event led to a discussion about technical writing. (Go, networking!) “You should go to WordCamp”, the woman who organized the meeting told me. I gave her my card. The next morning, my inbox contained an email from her with all of the pertinent information. Even though I didn’t fully comprehend (from the presentation titles) what exactly a WordCamp was, in a purely visceral moment, I registered for the almost‐free‐for‐you‐today price of $30.00.

A year-long desire to start a blog was tempered by a couple of practicalities: I don’t know diddly about publishing online and what would I write about that anyone would want to read, anyway? Maybe this would kick my tail into high gear. Perhaps I would meet fellow writers and expand my network. After finding a seat in the crowded, too‐warm auditorium, realization dawned in a what‐in‐the‐world‐am I‐doing‐here? moment. Unfamiliar terms and acronyms were hurled at me full‐throttle: ‘tag cloud’, ‘CMS’ and ‘irresistibly sticky’. Excuuuse me.

Early on, I acknowledged the vast hole that was my website creation ignorance and decided to let each speaker’s words wash over me. Perhaps something would eventually make sense. “I really, really love my pen and paper”, I inwardly whined. Presenter after presenter stepped onto the stage with the ruthless intent of reinforcing my aforementioned ‘lostness’. More than once, I vowed to leave ‘after the next one’, but these folks were not only passionate and knowledgeable about their topics, they seemed like such nice people. The kind of people you’d want to visit with afterward, even if you might not understand one flippin’ thing they said. Niceness is a universal language that erodes language barriers, even geek speak, and I was charmed.

The day ran long. I was worn out from sponging up all of that new information that I feared I might never use. I kept looking at my watch. Again, I told myself I’d leave after the next presentation. But that felt so rude. The noisy room hushed when the event organizer announced it was time to raffle off a MacBook Pro, donated by Taylormark, one of WordCamp’s sponsors and an ‘Apple‐focused information technology professional services company’. A red ticket was pulled from the bowl, and each number was slowly teased off. Wait a minute! The first five numbers were matching those on my stub. I blinked. Wow. I actually had a chance! My adrenaline level pumped up a little. I once won a gift certificate to a spa. There was thatone hundred dollars on a scratch‐off that came in handy shortly after I was laid off. But a Mac? No way. FIVE! That was the last number. I think. Then my name was called out. The rest is a blur. My heart raced. My goose bumps had goose bumps. I was so flustered that I actually walked in front of the video cameras that were live-streaming the event ‐ ‐ not grasping my faux pas until later. Mark Taylor handed me the coveted white box. A round of applause erupted. I was grinning like a fool, and photos exist to prove it. Me? Who hadn’t touched a Mac in ten years? The one who didn’t know XAMPP from WAMP? I quite literally floated back to my seat, red-faced from embarrassment and excitement.

Earlier in the day, driving to WordCamp, I’d asked for a sign that I was fulfilling my purpose and to let me know when I was going astray. Lately, I’ve felt as though I’m swimming through mud to get back to the land of the employed. Am I moving in the right direction? Yada yada. As I turned out of the UTD parking lot, I glanced at the white box nestled into the passenger seat, (did I mention it was a MAC???) along with my new T‐shirt. I was struck by the generosity behind the gift, as well as the thoughtfulness, openness and intelligence of the community I’d just been introduced to. The door to a new world was opening up for me.

“There’s yer sign”, I giddily marveled. There’s yer sign.