Historical October 1985 report or notice. Original dates, prices and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
I’ve never viewed myself as an anachronism or as being particularly resistant to change. I mean, I willingly bought a small car when gasoline prices were high and I just as willingly moved to a bigger model when we discovered that the sheiks didn’t have the monopoly we originally thought. Earlier, I was happy to join the 60’s movement by growing my hair longer, protesting against the war, and beginning every sentence with “like.” I’ve also always been pro-technology.
As a kid I always had a radio and was semi-glued to the tube.
As an adult now (no comments please!), I’m “in” to things that plug into outlets.
I have a portable chess computer, a VCR, and so on. People who knew me then were somehow surprised that I hadn’t joined the computer movement.
Oh, the place where I work has computers and it’s not like I’m afraid of them; it’s just that I hadn’t purchased one and really had no desire to become computer literate. Well all that has changed.
This very column, dear reader, is being typed on my very own pc. (To those of you who aren’t with it, man, “pc” stands for “personal computer.”) Yep, that’s right: I, too, am now part of the computer generation. What’s my reaction? HOLY COW!!!
This sucker is nothing short of fantastic. I’ve always been a fast typist, but my error rate has left a whole lot to be desired.
I was always the first kid done with the typing exercise in class, but no one could read what I had written. Well this baby makes even me a good typist. You see, there’s this little dude called a “cursor.” (I suspect it got misspelled somewhere along the way, the e being replaced by the o. I’ve typed enough to know what they mean when they say “curser”!) Anyway, this little guy is like a magician on a string. He’ll go anywhere you want and move words, replace letters, change punctuation and so on.
The only thing he’s not been able to do is get my coffee and I imagine that’s because I haven’t found the right command. I used to spend more time “cleaning up” my writing than actually doing the writing—using white-out, adding punctuation with a pen, cutting and pasting. (Yes, I know that many of you have suspected that, given the quality of my writing, but that’s another story—or column.) Now I just sit and play with my cursor. (Does that sound as obscene as I think?) Thus far, other than my electric bill, there’s only one problem that I can see with the whole enterprise. It’s so easy to write, I can’t stop myself!
Before Katie used to have to bug me to get my column in on time.
Now I’ve got columns galore from which she can choose.
All of my old friends, y’know, the ones I owe letters, will be hearing from me shortly. I’m even hoping someone will send me a chain letter. Thus far I’ve sent a personally written note to the Reader’s Digest Sweepstake folks, thanking them for having me on their mailing list. I’ve written a letter to the editor of every publication I receive and am about to start my second dissertation.
My usually tolerant wife has bought my paper, stamps, and envelopes in bulk quantity and our mailman looks at me with fear and dread each time he comes to our door. I’ve even ordered t-shirts with two large P’s, standing for my new credo: prolix and prolific.
The ends of each of my fingers are starting to show blisters from my constant typing and when I glance in the mirror, between letters, my glazed-over eyes do seem to look a bit rectangular. I’m beginning to get pains in my back from sitting and typing for such long periods of time, but that’s ok. I’ve written letters to several chiropractors, the American Medical Society, a few local doctors that I know, and IBM to alert them to the problem.
My first wife and I were recently invited to a party, but I think it’ll be a bit more efficient for me to stay home and send a letter instead.
If I were to go in person, I’d no doubt waste a good deal of time in idle chit-chat and conversation.
By staying home and sending a computergenerated letter instead, one which my wife will distribute at the party, I can more efficiently communicate with everyone there. I’ll end the letter by asking folks to respond to me by writing on the bottom of my letter.
Then, once I receive their responses, I’ll be able to answer them back with a minimum of wasted time and effort. (If it’s a boring group, I’ll write the same letter, use the “mergefile” software to address each one individually, and they’ll never know the difference!) I’ve just purchased an inflatable lifesized dummy. Don’t tell anyone, but I plan to glue a beard to the dummy, give him an exciting tie and sneak him in my office at work when no one is looking.
By setting him near the window with a light to his back (and by having a candle which emits cigar-like aromas present), I figure I can stay home and do all of my communication via letter.
Everyone will think I’m in the office and I’ll just generate lots of letters, memos, notes, and reminders with my trusty pc.
The first wife can simply take them into work each day to be placed in staff mailboxes. Heck, given my level of personal charm and charisma, I figure I’m bound to come out ahead by limiting my communication to notes.
Besides, here, too, I figure the right kind of message and “mergefile” can save a lot of effort. Y’know, just write, “Dear Nice job!” and give it to them.
In no time at all, each employee will be able to come up with something for which s/he is getting complimented.
Well, I’d like to continue, but I’m behind on my paperwork. I need to write today’s letter to Senators Eagleton and Danforth along with my personal daily legislative reminders to each of the aldermen. Listen, I’m kind of busy now, so if you don’t see me, drop me a line. I promise to answer with a note.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, October 1985.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1985_10.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
