
I put the taped label on there for my own sake.
I forget how I came by the Mac Mini pictured above, but I’m sure I didn’t buy it new. I rarely do. It was probably Dan’s—my buddy who’d snatch up the latest Apple gear the day it dropped, only to flip it the moment something faster or shinier arrived. His castoffs were my gain; he’d offer them to me at prices so low I’d be a fool to say no. Those hand-me-downs powered years of my work.
Dan’s gone now. Vietnam Veteran, brilliant photographer, restless tinkerer, generous to a fault. His death closed a chapter—and cut off my back-channel to near-cutting-edge Macs at fire-sale rates. I miss the gear. I miss him more. Continue reading










