If you think iMac availability is bad now, just wait until the effects of the fire kick in. iMac supplies have been sketchy of late, most likely due in no small part to Apple's recent move to outsource all iMac production to LG Electronics. While the transition has reportedly been pretty smooth, we have to assume that the handover is at least partly to blame for the mere trickle of fruit-flavored goodness into the channel. Given how high the iMac's demand has risen, that trickle should be a torrent-- which is why this whole fire thing stands to throw a real damper on the whole iMac success phenomenon.

The story, according to Apple Insider, goes like this: LG's Mexico plant, which is currently responsible for the production of all iMacs destined for the U.S. retail channel, caught fire about a week ago, and while the blaze wasn't too bad and no one was hurt, the water damage resulting from putting out the fire also crippled the plant's ability to crank out iMacs. The plant was reportedly in the process of churning out a ton of Blueberry and Grape units (the most popular, and therefore the scarcest, flavors), but the fire may have "cut short" the number of iMacs from that order that actually makes it into stores.

The plant may be out of commission for "at least a month's time," during which Apple will probably have little choice but to shift the focus of their own Sacramento plant (which spends these days crafting blue-and-white G3's) in a more iMac-y direction. As a result, we can expect possible G3 shortages as well. And while we can't think of anything sadder than a melted iMac, we have to admit-- we wonder what one looks like. Perhaps some pictures will surface soon.

Katie, our resident Goddess of Minutiae, has been doing a whole lot of non-AtAT-related travel for the last couple of weeks, leaving the AtAT studios a little short-staffed-- not to mention a bit lonely. But, trooper that she is, she managed to squeeze at least a smidgen of AtAT material out of her extended jaunts. Whenever "virtual" meetings won't cut it and actual bodily transport is necessary, AtAT staff generally flies United Airlines, due largely to their decent track record in accommodating our vegan diet ("If Steve Jobs won't eat it, neither will we!"). United provides each passenger not only with a free copy of their in-flight magazine (ooooooh!), but also with a catalog called High Street Emporium, which basically includes various merchandise from other mail-order catalogs like Brookstone, Lillian Vernon, and the ever-puke-ular Successories. You can use the in-flight phone for free to order stuff while you're in the air, which is basically the big gimmick-- shop at 35,000 feet, or whatever.

Now, what makes this particular issue of High Street Emporium so cool is that as soon as you open it, smack dab in the middle of the table of contents is a picture of an iMac, clearly showing both the Apple logo and the iMac name. On its screen is a Netscape window, commanding the reader to "shop at www.skymall.com." Even better, you can actually buy an iMac through the catalog! All of page 165 is dedicated to the fruit-flavored wonder, showing the familiar ring of all five flavors from the "Yum" ads and bearing the slogan "Surf in Style. iMac now in five flavors." Then there's the familiar specs list, an item number, the shipping weight, and the price: "Only $1199.00. Prices may drop by the time of publication, so call for the best price guarantee." And sure enough, there's an iMac record in the SkyMall online catalog.

So there's one more place you can shop for an iMac-- while flying United Airlines. And while you're placing an order for a Grape iMac, you can also throw in a pair of Moon Shoes, a krypton-lighted dog leash, and a framed poster that says "Innovation: If there is a better solution... find it." (Perhaps that last item is just what you were looking for in a Christmas gift to Bill Gates. It's never too early to start!)

Sundays around the AtAT headquarters are generally a pretty placid time, devoted to those mundane tasks that just have to get done despite not being any fun-- bill-paying, grocery shopping, all those little things that chew up time whether you like it or not. But it's sort of liberating to lose oneself to the simple function of folding laundry; no matter how much work is waiting, at some point laundry just has to take precedence. That's what Sundays are for, and there's always an evening of Fox TV at the end of the day as a happy reward.

And yet, sometimes things just aren't as tranquil on the other side of the fence. We were forced to forgo a new episode of The Simpsons when we received a phone call from a cousin's fiancé, whom we'd never even met, but who was at the end of his rope and called us for computer advice since we are "computer people." This poor gent has a Packard-Bell (uh-oh) which has been giving him grief; whenever he runs any software that needs to access the CD-ROM drive, the whole system freezes up. He took the system into CompUSA for service (double uh-oh), who charged him a hundred bucks to tell him that there was nothing wrong with the hardware and to recommend that he restore the software on his hard disk to its factory-original state-- which he had done previously, to no avail. He asked us how he could open up the computer to see if maybe something was loose inside, because he just didn't know what else to do. A regular Consumer Reports reader, he hadn't even tried contacting Packard-Bell's customer service department, because he was firmly convinced it wouldn't get him anywhere at all.

Folks, this is a writer, not a tech-head. The poor guy just wants to work on his novel and play some games to relax, but it's not so relaxing to see every CD-ROM-based game crash one's system. Despite knowing very little about computers, he's frustrated enough to want to pull his machine open in a desperate hope that he'll be able to see what's wrong with it. (Perhaps a big BROKEN/FIXED switch set in the BROKEN position?) After we recommended at least trying Packard-Bell's tech support and possibly trying to locate updated drivers for his CD-ROM drive, he noted that he was sorely tempted to throw the thing out the window and buy a new one-- at which point he asked us what we knew about the iMac. That was the point at which we knew we'd have to make the supreme sacrifice and miss The Simpsons, as we answered question after question about the iMac's ease of use and whether it really "just worked" right out of the box. The point of this whole story is this: we are now very clear on why there's a sizeable percentage of ex-Windows users buying iMacs these days. If you're a computer-savvy individual, it's easy to forget just how intimidating and bewildering even the simplest problems can be to the "average Joe." And whether this cousin's fiancé winds up chucking the Wintel and getting an iMac or not, the whole frenzied phone call just made us surer than ever that while the iMac's style may be the sizzle, its simplicity is its most crucial feature.