I bought my first Mac — a Performa 6200 — sometime in the mid-90s.
This was before the iMac, before the iPod, before any of it was fashionable.
And it was a million miles better than what I’d been using: an Amiga 1200.
That thing tried to act like a computer, but the Performa actually was one.
At the same time, most of my friends were buying Nintendo and Sega consoles, pretending those were computers — just because you could plug a keyboard into them and write three lines of BASIC if you were feeling ambitious.
Me? I wanted to make stuff, not just play with it.
So I joined Team Apple. And never looked back.
Design That Doesn’t Make You Feel Stupid
Apple machines have always had something others didn’t.
Not more buttons. Not more fans. Just… more sense.
I didn’t need a tech support forum to change my settings. I didn’t need to learn command-line voodoo to install software. The Mac respected your brain, your time, and your taste.
It was a machine that said:
“Here. Go do your thing. I’ll stay out of the way.”
The Whole Package, Not Just the Specs
Over the years, I’ve owned many Macs — each one better than the last.
From that humble Performa to the candy-coloured iMac era, the G4 lampshade, the first unibody MacBooks, and now the glorious M-series.
I remember my first MacBook Pro, sometime around 2005, and I thought:
Apple must have a massive chunk of pure coolness stored somewhere in Cupertino… and every MacBook is just sliced off the end of it.
They don’t just work. They feel like they were designed by someone who actually uses them. No stickers. No bloat. No weird plastic creaks. Just a solid, clever tool you could trust.
I Don’t Care What It Costs — It’s Better
I don’t buy into the “Apple tax” argument.
Yes, it’s more expensive. But I’m not here to save €200 on something I use all day, every day, for work and life and writing and sanity.
I’ve done my time fiddling with budget machines.
I’ve rebuilt PCs. I’ve fixed broken drivers. I’ve hand-reformatted dodgy hard drives while praying it doesn’t blue screen again.
I don’t want that anymore. I want flow. I want tools that get out of the way.
The Ecosystem Feels Like Magic (Because It Is)
The beauty of Apple isn’t just the hardware — it’s how everything talks to everything else.
Copy something on my Mac. Paste it on my phone.
Take a photo on my iPhone. It’s already on my iPad.
Answer a call from my desktop. Send files with a tap.
AirDrop, Universal Clipboard, iCloud sync — it all just works. Quietly. Invisibly.
And once you get used to that… good luck going back.
And Then Came the Phone
I still remember struggling with Motorola and Nokia phones in the early 2000s — trying to send a text on a numeric keypad, navigating menus that made no sense, battling with syncing and ringtones and charging cables that felt like medieval torture devices.
I said, more than once: “I wish Apple would just make a phone. It would be SO much better.”
And thank the gods of tech — they did.
Since 2007, we’ve been saved.
Everything got smoother, saner, more human.
And I’ve never looked back.
Still Here. Still Mac. Still Smug.
I’ve been using Apple gear for more than three decades.
Not because it’s trendy, or because I’m part of a cult, or because I need a glowing logo to feel superior.
But because it’s better.
Better to look at. Better to use. Better for my work and my life.
And if the day ever comes when the world turns its back on Apple again —
I’ll still be here, with my Mac, quietly getting things done while everyone else waits for updates to install.
The M4 Pro Is a Beast
Most recently, I picked up the M4 Pro Mac mini — and it is, quite simply, unbelievable.
Blazing fast, whisper quiet, and handles everything I throw at it with zero effort.
No drama. No spinning fans. Just raw, silent power.
I absolutely love it.
This little silver box is a creative monster — and yet somehow still feels elegant and overqualified for the job.