“You’re a what?” you probably ask. I’m a Switcher, which is what Apple calls people that shun the Windows world for a Macintosh. Our beautiful little eMac arrived yesterday morning. The computer Gods must have been watching, because the Dell laptop that I use for work promptly got ravaged by a virus/spyware that no one could figure out how to fix. I spent literally all day yesterday, and most of this morning, on the phone with our tech support people, or sitting watching my screen as someone in K.C. took control of the device and tried to remove the offending files. Meanwhile, my Mac sat quietly on the other side of my desk, happily cranking away at multiple applications without crashing, locking up, or doing any of the other fun things our old HP did. I’ll bore you with more Mac evangelism later; it is a cult, you know; but I feel obligated to point out regular reader E-bro in NoCal makes his living relying on the world to purchase computers with Intel processors. I’ll be happy to discuss, in great depth, the joys of the Mac world with anyone interested in switching, but keep in mind you’re helping a friend if you yield to societal pressures and stick with Windows.

Will everything that was going on last week, I somehow missed the Carlos Beltran All-Star controversy completely. Thankfully, Major League Baseball was given an out to cover their asses and wisely added Carlos to the National League roster. I could have been misinformed, but it was my understanding that despite being voted into the game for the American League by the fans, his recent trade to Houston meant that Carlos could not compete in this week’s events. He could show up and call himself an All-Star, but he couldn’t actually suit up. Was anyone really surprised by this rule? Coming from the same people who decided to let the teams play to a tie two years ago, and last season made home field advantage in the World Series dependent on the winner of the game, a rule as dumb as this seemed about right. Thank goodness it was corrected. What if the Astros had traded Carlos to Boston or New York this week, though? What then, Mr. Selig???

Another thing lost in the shuffle was the whole Maria Sharapova thing. Wow! She just worked Serena over last Saturday in the Wimbledon final. Finally, the white, heterosexual male’s perfect tennis player: hot, smart, funny, and talent on top of it all. (For the record, I’ve always been down with Serena’s looks; I don’t like to fence myself in.) In a semi-related note, columnists in the Midwest who will have to write about Kansas basketball over the next four years, were already beginning their columns comparing Alexander Kaun to Sharapova. “Like Maria Sharapova, who was born in Siberia, moved to Florida with little money and less English for the chance to play a game in the United States…” It’s going to happen, I guarantee it.

So the wife’s stomach is getting really, really big. Noticeably bigger over the past week, in fact. This poor girl was sticking out in so many different directions last night that S’s stomach looked like a misshapen pumpkin: smooth angles here, right angles there. As an added bonus, neither of us can sleep all the way through the night now. S. wakes for obvious reasons. I have no idea why four nights in a row I’ve woken just after 1:00 feeling like it’s 7:00 and spend the next 60-90 minutes either tossing and turning or down on the couch reading.

One of the best things about being a prospective parent is shopping for baby clothes. Not for the process itself, but more because you get to say funny things. For example, anytime we see clothes, mobiles, anything baby-related with a monkey on it, we say, “Haven’t you always wanted a monkey?” How is that not fun?

Something I forgot to mention in my mini book review Sunday was the fact the copy of The Sweet Forever I read was a signed copy by the author. Now why the Carmel-Clay public library needs signed copies of George Pelecanos novels is beyond me. I just hope my tax dollars aren’t being wasted here.

Do yourself a favor and check out the Snow Patrol song “Spitting Games”. Pure pop brilliance. I can’t get the freaking thing out of my head.

To close, I was pretty much sitting staring out the window yesterday morning waiting for the FedEx truck to show up with my Mac. Finally, just after 9:00 AM, it pulls around the corner, and a young guy pops the box on his shoulder and makes his way to our door. I greet him before he can get to the bell and show him in. He sets the box down and says, “This is a beautiful house, man.” I don’t know if he was just a really nice guy, or if he gets paid off by Apple to make the customer experience rewarding from the moment the machine arrives at your door. It was a nice touch, though.