Happy anniversary, Apple!

Yes, I realize this isn't Apple's wedding anniversary. But it is mine, and I have a special favor to ask: Can my husband cut the Leopard line at our local Apple store so he can get his T-shirt, and we can get to our celebration dinner before, say, midnight?

It was only yesterday when my husband, whom I will call "Selor" for purposes of this blog entry (and yes, keen-eyed readers, that is indeed an anagram of 'loser'), said, "Hey, honey - about tomorrow night ... "

Me: "You want to know which expensive restaurant to make reservations at, right?"

Selor: "Well, not exactly. I was wondering if we could celebrate on Saturday instead."

Me: "And that would be because…?"

Selor: "You know, Leopard. I'm thinking I'll be on line way past dinnertime."

Me: "Can't you order it online from one of the approximately ten thousand outlets that will be selling Leopard?"

Selor: "I've already ordered it online so I'd be sure to have my own personal copy. Of course! But I have to go to the store to get the T-shirt."

I have to admit this wasn't entirely unexpected, being that "Selor" has had a Leopard countdown clock on his living-room Mac for at least the last month. And that's only because I've banned that clock from, um, other areas of our home.

The fervor with which my husband has embraced all things Apple, however, is surprising to even other Mac devotees. FOS (friend of Selor), whose Mac was the very first Selor ever glimpsed - over a decade ago, now - wrote in a recent e-mail, "Hey, you've become quite the Fan Boy!"

Yo, FOS -- that's kind of like the first vampire biting people and then complaining after they become vampires, too. Get thee to the back of the Leopard line, babe.

Yes, there are far worse vices than i-Things -- gambling, drinking, other computers. It's true. Still and all, note to self: make sure to unpack all of Selor's Things With Plugs On Them (with the possible exception of his electric razor) before we leave for our upcoming second-honeymoon cruise in Hawaii. Otherwise, when he sits down in front of his iStuff and enters a new time/space continuum, we might as well be in inner-city Brooklyn instead of sailing the deep blue sea.

And note to Selor: forget the diamonds for this anniversary, honey. I want the Leopard T-shirt instead.