Last year’s birthday present to myself was a MacBook Air. I had lusted after one since they first came out — the sleekness, the silverness, the speed. Dan only had to watch me with my new toy for a day or two before dubbing it “The Precious.”

It was expensive. Dan and his son — both avid Apple aficionados — couldn’t fathom why I didn’t get a PowerBook, which can do a whole lot more. I didn’t care. Brook loved her MacBook Air, and like her, I wanted something portable with a keyboard for writing. Besides, “The Precious” is a work of art. 

This year it’s “The Pretty.” Last week, after discovering I had won a Rockower Award — clever Dan dubbed it “The Jewlitzer” — from the American Jewish Press Association (Jan. 8, 2011 Gabrielle Giffords shooting), I bought a new bike. 

The Fuji Absolute 2.0 was also expensive. It’s smooth, it’s fast, it’s quiet.

I start collecting Social Security this month, but who knows when I’ll be able to retire. “The Pretty” matches my MacBook Air in color, a muted silver, with lovely lines that somehow remind me of the archway to the tiny purple-carpeted reading nook at Oz Books.

Ah, the sheer beauty of purple and/or silver.

The discarding of crapola started with the purchase of a new windbreaker at REI a few years ago. I didn’t have that essential article of clothing for heading to Mt. Lemmon on a windy day. Dan encouraged me to buy a decent one, not look in Savers or another local thrift store. I’m grateful to him.

It’s time to get rid of the crapola. I want to bicycle more, keep up with Dan better when we do ride together,  and not be burdened by an old clunker bike that has a mind of its own.

“Holy shit,” I often blurted out as the clunker decided to shift gears moments after I did.

No more crapola means knowing when I can afford what I really want and not settling for less. So let some University of Arizona coed thrill to the clunker’s purple and white streamers flying in the breeze. I’m moving on.