In honor of Steve Jobs, I will get my geek on and share this silly thing I wrote a while ago but never published because it was a bit too absurd. But, as a tribute to Mr. Jobs, I suppose this will provide a glimpse into the (somewhat embarrassing) emotional connection we have with his products …

Background: For my birthday, I upgraded to a new Macbook Pro, but I am having lots of anxiety over this. I have loved my PowerBook G4, a graduation present from my parents, since 2005. While I’m excited to upgrade, I’m feeling some guilt, given how much I love my current machine. This post is to help me deal with that.

Dear 15″ Aluminum PowerBook G4,

I tried to name you once, but nothing stuck. It all felt too contrived. I’m sorry if that made you feel less-than, but I promise, it wasn’t because I didn’t regard you enough. You were just too much machine for some cutesy name.

You may not have had a name, but you’ve had a significant place in my life.

You helped me through graduate school–the frustration, the all-nighters. You gave me a venue for movies and TV shows when I had no TV. You stored hundreds of pictures, songs, documents and programs, never once crashing. You even have a hidden “therapist” function, in case I need someone to talk to. And you saw me through the start of this blog, nudging me toward greater expression and creativity.

I’ve always appreciated your classic good-looks, hidden power and sleek durability. You still outshine computers generations younger than yourself, and you’ve always made me look cooler than I am.

I hope you appreciated how I babied you: held you on my lap (incurring the ire of my dog); bought you accessories to play with; never once put you in a cold trunk; wiped you down with a lint-free, damp cloth; hid you in drawers, just in case someone may have broken in and stolen you.

But I still let you live. You spent almost a year on the other side of the world, keeping me in touch with my family, friends and now-husband. If it weren’t for you, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the long-distance period of our relationship. I owe you my marriage.

You’ve given me six amazing years–practically the limit I was told to expect. I’ve only just begun to notice your age, really.

Part of me would rather stay in 2005’s pre-Intel core processor days with you. But it is time for me to move on. I’ve shunned modern technological advances too long, but now I need to look forward–to sync my phone, to learn some basic web design, to enjoy greater portability with a smaller machine.

But you’ll always have a place here–as a really awesome guest computer. You will still be loved, and I will never forget you.

Thank you, PowerBook G4. For everything.