I’ve been using Apple computers for a very, very long time.
When I was a kid, my dad used to bring home Apple Lisas and Apple IIEs for us to play with.
For my 10th birthday – all the way back in 1981 – there was a queue of boys from my class, snaking their way around the house, just waiting for their first chance to play with a computer. Literally queuing up, to step over the threshold, and into a new brave new world.
I bought my first Apple computer in 1996. It was a PowerMac 7200/90. And it was followed a few years later by a charcoal G4 tower with a see-through monitor that was nearly the size of a dishwasher.
Back in those days, Macs froze with some frequency. And when they did, there were no screenshots to be taken, nor convenient snaps with your iPhone. The best chance of conveying the disaster at hand, was scribbling down those angst-inducing error messages, which proved invaluable when later discussing the matter with Apple technical support.
After moving house a few years back, I discovered some folders which contained a pile of these scribbled distress-calls. As you might imagine, for a Mac-nerd-fanboy, this was like stepping through a portal, and back into an age of virtual innocence.
And when viewed from a purely visual point of view, the graphical primacy of these harried sketches proved to be the basis for a dynamic collection of t-shirts which evoked a simpler time from our shared digital past.