For twenty years I've been a contented user of Apple computer products. I'm not sure how many incarnations of the Mac I've owned over the years. I can't imagine using another brand, and, in fact, I never have, excepting a troubled affair with a Kaypro in my freshman year of college. On Sunday I bought an iPhone, and my contentment has increased. You may have heard something about the iPhone in the media. Its usefulness boils down to this: tonight I'm leaving for Munich, and ordinarily I'd want to bring along my iPod (for the plane and visits to the hotel gym), my cellphone (for brief, exorbitantly expensive calls home), and my laptop (allegedly for writing, mainly for checking e-mail and retrieving contact information). This time I'm bringing only the new gadget, having loaded it up with my address book from Abramovich to Zalewski, itineraries for the Munich Opera Festival, MP3s of works by Unsuk Chin and Wolfgang Rihm, favorite Dylan and Radiohead playlists, Furtwängler's Tristan und Isolde, two episodes of the show Friday Night Lights, and, yes, Chinatown.