I killed Chandler. For all of you fumbling for Dan Rather’s number to turn me in to 48 Hours, he doesn’t host the show anymore. Ketchup.
Besides, I didn’t kill Chandler BING. Duh. That’s impossible. I love him too much.
But I did kill the other Chandler. Chandler McBook. It was a drowning. Or alcohol poisoning. Or both. The autopsy failed due to an inappropriately sized screw driver and a lack of interest once I had the whole thing sprawled out on my living room floor.
And now, out of respect for the departed, and for shits and gigs, a eulogy:
I loved you. You were like a second child to me, even though I never had a first. Meaning, I feel like I understood you better than a child, first or otherwise.
You were unique and original and looked exactly like every other 2007 MacBook out there. You proved the whole world wrong when you crashed after only 6 months. Everyone said it wouldn’t happen with an Apple Product and there you were. Trailblazing. You always trail blazed. It was a bit exhausting but terribly endearing. Like when you kept updating iMovie before I was ready. I had absolutely zero clue how to use the new features (and refused to learn). What can I say? Old dog. New tricks, you know?
Of course you know.
You always knew.
You were such a sweet, little rotten Apple.
You were supportive and dependable. Everything I could ask for from a computer and/or a brassiere. I regret that I drowned you. That was very mean of me and I will hang my head in shame indefinitely. How could I have ever repaid you? You took me through the epically tragic and terribly stressful graduate school. Anyone that can put up with me through the terror I was in that unmentionable period, deserves a toast. A classy toast with aged wine in crystal glasses. But because I disassembled you in panic (and let’s be honest, because you’ve had quite enough wine) (and even more honest, because I drink wine out of coffee mugs), a eulogy will have to do.
So here it is. From my heart to your hard drive.
Thank you for the time.
The seemingly unlimited memory and the epically great virus protection without pop up reminders for updates.
Thank you for always remembering my passwords (except for TimeWarner which still frustrates me but let’s let bygones be gone).
Thank you for organizing my photos in one, easy to find and maneuver location.
Thank you for connecting Australia to home when I needed it most, and for the endless nights of PhotoBooth humiliation. Wynonna Judd thanks you as well.
Thank you for understanding that I regretted buying a white computer. I’m not racist. You just got really dirty.
And for having a magnetic power cord. It made dealing with your wires and cords so much more manageable and significantly delayed your drowning.
And finally, thank you, Chandler McBook, for the countless hours of endurance and understanding while I told your internet connection where to shove it.
I loved you.
And now I have replaced you.
With a thinner. More beautiful. Faster version of you.
You would have liked her.
Her name is Mrs. Chanandler Bong.
And, thankfully, she is in AA.
Love and toasts.
Enjoy the infinite beach balling in the sky!