According to some inside sources, the iPad is dropping this Monday in Hong Kong. I’m almost certain I’m gonna pick it up that night right after work. I know there are many skeptics and I’ve heard their take:
“there is no need for this device, it doens’t do anything your iphone or laptop doesn’t already do”
“it can’t replace a laptop, and it’s too big to be with you at all times”
Now while those statements are true, the ipad still has a market for people who really like to consume electronic media. I see myself sitting on the couch holding the pad reading the New York Times. I picture myself at a coffee shop, juggling sips of coffee with writing emails, reading the latest Vanity Fair feature, watching youtube clips, and jotting down notes.
With that said, I was cleaning my room earlier and I came across a stack of old magazines. So I start reading them on the couch. As I’m lying there in my underwear holding the mag, I suddenly realized that–as good as electronic media has become–it still can’t replace the feel of holding a solid mag.
This is an issue of SLAM from May 2000. This particular issue has been with me for OVER A DECADE. And because I treat my magazines and books so gently–it’s the comic book geek in me; you have to keep everything in mint condition–the magazine still feels new. The pages aren’t ripped or creased up, the binding still intact. It’s a good looking mag that feels fresh–figuratively and literally.
But looking at the cover and it’s so obviously not. Jason Kidd, with the Phoenix Suns, with a head full of hair on the cove. Since this photo has taken, Kidd’s gone on to Jersey and Dallas, made two trips to the NBA Finals, and flirted with the MVP. Kidd was entering prime time when this mag hit, now he’s on his last legs trying to fight a losing battle with his basketball mortality.
When I held this magazine for the first time, I was a senior in high school enjoying the most carefree days of my life–no job, no school (actually I had school but the final semester of high school was one giant party for me, I didn’t do no work. NONE); everyday involved hanging with friends, eating pho, and playing ball. Ben Osbourne was one of several editors of the magazine then.
Now, I’m living in Hong Kong, writing the city column for the city’s biggest English paper, and Ben Osbourne runs SLAM over at NYC. A few months ago, we exchanged emails and I got to write a piece for him. I woulda never expected that ten years ago.
So I’m holding this mag, lying on the couch in my underwear, Lynyrd Skynyrd blasting through the speakers, and I understand why magazines will never die.