Caught The Dark Knight premiere the other night. Free nachos and beer! The movie rocked before it began. Also meant I’d forever associate nacho/beer breath with this particular flick which, you know, no movie really deserves (except maybe Old School).

As previously tweeted, Heath Ledger was phenomenal — when he wasn’t channeling Harry Solomon from 3rd Rock from the Sun. I couldn’t completely immerse myself in his maniacal take when I kept expecting a message from The Big Giant Head.

Awesome movie, not hugely enjoyable (and I love dark). Iron Man won this round.

The Moo MiniCards are in! Based on the excellent Dawn M’s equally excellent Moo MiniCard templates, a gift for the Missus featuring the three little ones.

Last week, Cisco let it be known that he was ready to give up his Mac Mini in exchange for a Windows PC. It’s what his friends have, it’s what his school runs, and, well, he’s seven.

Still, going from OS X to Windows? Giving up the slick ’stack-of-six-CDs’ form factor for a mini-tower’s worth of eyesore? Apple to MS? The boy needed some serious talking-to. Two days I geared up for it, simplifying my reasoning to elementary school level. But in so doing, I completely defeated my own arguments. And, well, he’s seven.

So I spent the weekend putting together a decent XP-class P4 out of my previous two rigs. An upper-end core solo from right before the duos took over, a couple of gigs of RAM, an 80 gig drive for the OS and a 320 for his growing collection of, uh, ripped media, etc.

Now, I’m pretty handy with XP. I managed and was the technical lead in two projects that migrated whole critical networks of hundreds of workstations over to the platform from NT. I designed the Active Directory configuration for the severs and developed tightly locked down, closely managed workstation configurations for a variety of user types and requirements. I took full advantage and squeezed every bit of functionality I could from global/local policies, user profiles, and everything the Zero Admin initiatives could give me to come up with a solid, reliable, and relatively secure XP-based workstation build.

So no bot-net-bait on this home network. This little guy’s machine will be locked up tight as a drum. But after a relatively blissful year on the OS X security bubble (which is fast approaching critical mass as the Mac market share does the same — inevitably attracting the ne’er do wells and popping this lickable aqua-themed bubble) and all that vaunted XP experience, I still can’t help but feel like I’m handing the kid a loaded gun. Or a thermolyte explosive charge with remote detonators scattered all over the Internet.

I’m not an Apple elitist by any means — I run Vista on my primary desktop mostly by choice, and I’m learning to love my media-serving, torrent-leeching ‘buntu box — but this has got me asking, how responsible is this?

And, more importantly, is there a special circle in hell for those who give XP boxes to their kids?

My best friend’s last entry is a single line Bronte quote on friendship. The irony of it is, it’s exactly that attitude towards our particular friendship that made me remain his all those years. And even now, actually.

He hasn’t counted me as one of his for several years now. A bad falling out, both of us at fault. I like to think that if we run into each other at some bar in Malate we’d give each other the most casual of acknowledgments, order a carafe of white, and continue some long lost conversation from a decade ago without skipping a beat.

The last message I got from him through a common friend makes this somewhat unlikely though (I believe it was something to the effect of, “up yours”).

Meh. Maybe one day he’ll get over it. The carafe will be on me.

My Section Chief sent an SMS from New York saying he’d snagged a couple of MacBook Airs — and that I had dibs on one of them if I was interested. Yeah, coolest boss ever (keeping up with him is a pain in the wallet, but he’s still way cool).

He wasn’t due to arrive for a few days so I had time to think it over. And think I really had to, considering the BlakBook was all of three months old and still had that “little bit of plastic bag with a hint of lindenberry followed by a rush of Styrofoam” smell new Macs are known for.

After agonizing over it, as I do all things shiny, gadgety, and oh-so-slightly unnecessary, I pretty much decided I needed it (as I do all things shiny, gadgety, and oh-so-slightly unnecessary). But only if he brought home one of the more affordable 1.6GHz lower-end models (which in my heart of hearts, I knew was more likely).

Imagine my surprise and heartache when the day arrived and he pulled out a 1.8GHz sliver of absolute gorgeous with a 64GB solid-state drive. Imagine the surprise yet? What about the heartache? Here’s something to help you along: it costs over a grand more than the model I had decided I was going to take. Dammit, dammit.

Sigh.

So I call home to share this, my tale of woe and utter suck. But instead of commiserating, my wife goes, “Cool! Even better! Now you really have to get it!”

Most. Awesome. Wife. Ever.

And, yeah, the MacBook Air packs some awesome too.