The Keys to His Pappy’s Cadillac

That’s what Tim just gave me, all right. I wonder how long I’ll get to keep ’em?

Yessir, I’m happy as a a pig in — wait a minute, I have to find out if I can say that kind of thing here — to be an Officially Approved Blogger here at (Hi, Beth!) Some of you know who I am, the rest of you soon will. It’s all in my profile, but here’s the deal:

Until the last week of October, I was a senior editor and columnist at, had been for more years than need mentioning, though what caused us to part is relevant to why I’m here now. The last straw for management was my linking to an Appleinsider article that quoted messages from a few readers having Finder problems after installing Panther on older Macs with less than 32MB of VRAM. Right, major felony. The point is, someone on the Mothership was less than pleased that I had (a) linked to a rumor site, and (b) intimated that a few potential Panther customers might experience a little initial pain, so when the phone rang at Applelinks, that was that. But so what and who cares? I’m not here to rehash old history, and I’m certainly not trying to get back in the sandbox.

If I do have anything to say about the wonderful world of Macintosh, you can be sure I’ll post it here. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg: since I stopped having to include what brother Rob called the “Mac kibble” in my writings, I’ve been having lots more fun. If you take the time to vist my self-published GRACK! column, you’ll get the idea. Here’s an excerpt from the latest, entitled “Mystery Dogs” …

I grabbed a beat-up cowboy hat I used under these conditions, tossed a couple of cold beers in the scuzzy cooler designated “boat use only,” hoisted that and the gas can with both arms, and headed for the creek. Before I’d gotten halfway down the hill, the flies found me and began to bite. I couldn’t swat, because my hands were full. Cursing and staggering, with sweat burning its way into my eyes, I stumbled out of the brush and down to the water’s edge, where the strongest, most hideously foul stench of death I have ever encountered slammed me in the gut and nearly made me retch. I actually dropped what I was carrying and fell backwards, quite instinctively. GOOD GOD, WHAT WAS THAT? And WHERE WAS IT, whatever it was?!

As I noted at FarrFeed, Tim Robertson is “one helluva passionate, independent, take-no-prisoners kinda guy and loyal as hell to anyone worth his attention and respect. If that means I qualify, I’m grateful.” That’s the truth, and I am. I don’t know yet what kinds of things I’ll be posting on this page, but I’m here and I’m glad. I admire and respect the other MyMac writers, always have, and this is going to be great fun. It’s an honor to be here, that’s for sure.

Okay. Now let’s upload this and see if it blows the blogware all to hell. | Farrfeed | Fotofeed | |

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