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I've had my current laptop for almost 2 years now. I was taking a look around the edges of it today and noticed not a single scratch nor blemish on the black anodized aluminum body. This comes as a surprise to me, as if you know my habits, I tend to incorporate a level of clumsiness in favor of speed. Surely I've dropped, tossed, bumped this piece of metal around and still, not so much as a scratch on it. And for a second, it almost felt like this device that I've lived with didn't belong to me. If not for the software inside, there was no work of my self on it. My car has scuff marks on the door from my shoes. My shoe has a coffee stain on the heel. My notepad is rolled into the shape of my quads from sitting in my pocket all day. All the things around me have some semblance of me imbued in them. Except this one thing.
And for some reason, this has been bothering me all day.
I can't quite put a finger on it. But it feels like to own things, to make things human, they need to take some input, some deformation, some character from the user. I wouldn't be able to pick out my mac from a pile of macbooks.
So maybe I'll grab a sharpie tomorrow morning and sign my name across the top corner of my laptop