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I dropped my laptop the other day, and that was the end of the hard drive. And almost my foot: the laptop is thin enough to take off a toe. Everything is stored in the cloud, so I lost little work – but the machine went to the shop, leaving me without my favorite little machine. Reminded me how much we get used to certain tools. Maybe it’s an individual matter, but I can’t write on other people’s machines; it’s like using their toothbrush. I’ve rarely been able to write in offices, because the company computers are always boring, locked-down things with an omniscient, unseen Administrator hovering in the firmament like the cartoon God in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” ready to say NO.
My wife is completely unsentimental and agnostic about computers; my daughter is like me, tweaking and customizing all the time. (I’m writing on hers, now, because she’s at camp.) So it’s not a guy thing. I do know that computers are almost like dogs – it’s horrible when you have to say goodbye to one that’s been faithful, but the pain is softened by the immediate joy of getting a new one.
Anyway, that’s why I haven’t posted. (Also, the Ricochet platform doesn’t like iPads: can’t enter text in the comment field.) Anyone else have the same attachment to their machines, or recall certain computers they loved more than others? I still have a soft spot for the Leading Edge Model D on which I wrote my first novel. Amber text on a black screen, baby. You wanted a picture on the screen, you cut it out and taped it to the monitor.
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