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"&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;\n\n&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear Laptop,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm really not sure how to say this, so I may as well come right out and tell you the truth. It's not you, it's me. I just think it's time for me to start using other resources. Don't get me wrong, the last 15 or so years have been wonderful. You're all I could ever want from a portable microprocessor. The late nights in dingy hotels we spent together, me gently tickling your keyboard, you illuminating your monitor with some of the prettiest spreadsheets I have ever seen. I'm hoping we can still be friends though. Maybe we can still stay in touch, and I can do some drunk-Googling. And if you are up for it, when we are both a little lonely, maybe we can be v-lookup buddies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll never forget all the great times we had together. There was the trip to Las Vegas for my very first National Fantasy Baseball Championship competition when I got into a taxi at the airport and the driver asked me if I wanted to have some female companionship at my hotel. Do you remember what I said? I looked at you lovingly and asked the cab driver if she knew Excel. Then there was that trip to New York for Tout Wars when the draft was being filmed and you made it on camera. Sorry they didn't get your good side, but remember the camera adds 20 gigabytes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's something else. Remember last year at all my drafts and auctions when I told you I wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to use you because I didn't want you to get infected with a virus? I lied, I wasn't really sick. I was cheat-sheeting on you. Yes, that's right. I was using printed tiers behind your back. No draft software to track rosters and budgets. No real-time standings. All I had was a Sharpie to cross out names and a pen to write down my own team and keep a rough estimate of my HR and SB. And while you and I had more than our fair share of success, I must admit I have never felt more comfortable drafting than last spring and I had my most successful season ever. Don't take this personally, but you are pretty high maintenance. It was really tough keeping up with you. At times, I felt like I was paying more attention to you and wasn't able to focus elsewhere. And just when I was able to catch up, you would crash or your battery would run out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I realize some of your friends are still going to be attending drafts and auctions in a few months. Maybe their owners are more patient or more tolerant than I. That is fine, to each their own. Maybe their comfort level and ability to focus is not compromised. More power to them. And I know I could have bought you some fancy software instead of designing you some myself, but you know me, stubborn as a mule. I just need my own space and not be pressured by you to enter every single move, to attend to your needs. Sometimes I need to worry about my needs. And I admit, perhaps it is because I have been doing this a long time, but we are at the point in our relationship where you really don't tell me anything I don't already know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope you understand. You served your purpose and I will be forever grateful as I really don't think I would be where I am today without you being there by my side. You were the best looking laptop and all my friends had pixel-envy. But now it is time to move on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope you don't mind, but I have to go now and write a letter to your big sister, my desktop. I am going to be spending less time with her as well. But first, I need to use her to write my column for SI.com.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your BFF,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todd&lt;/p&gt;"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.si.com/fantasy/2010/02/10/strategy>