You may have heard of our “Large Number” difficulty. Human beings can all relate to numbers like 5, 100, 30,000 or so, but when the numbers reach a billion or a trillion, we sort of go blank. I have found a rather simple and effective way to make understanding large numbers easier – I remove some of the zeros.
For example, the US deficit is about $1.4 trillion. That’s $1,400,000,000,000. Neither you nor I nor any other normal human being can “get our mind around” that large number. Meanwhile, congress is discussing spending cuts of $50 billion or so. That number is too big to comprehend, too.
So, let’s do the zero-ectomy and put these figures in perspective. I’ll remove nine zeroes from both numbers. The US deficit becomes $1,400. That’s a number most of us can relate to.
Next, congress is thinking of cutting $50 billion, or $50,000,000,000. Removing nine zeroes again, we get $50.
So, to put the deficit and spending cuts in perspective, the US government has a $1,400 bill, and they are quibbling over $50. That means that if they could miraculously hold government spending where it is, and cut out $50 billion of Washington spending every year, we’d be out of debt in only 28 years.
Oh, not quite. There’s interest to pay. Even at 5% (ridiculously low) the interest on $1,400 is $70 per year, so $50 won’t even pay the annual interest. The truth is, we would go deeper into debt each and every year because of the interest. After five years, we’d owe $1,500! (Errr, $1.5 trillion.)
Think of it like your credit card. You owe $1,400 and you pay $50 per year. That does not pay the interest, so while you pay, your debt will increase every year until you are bankrupt. Same goes for Uncle Sam.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Friday, October 8, 2010
Voting
Well, it's voting time again. I used to puzzle over the "propositions" section of the ballot, but I have found a very simple way to figure out which way to vote on them.
Under 'fiscal impact' they usually say whether the proposition will result in more money for the government or less. If the proposition results in less money for the government, I'm for it.
Another good indicator is who endorses the proposition. If teachers, fire fighters, and police (unions) are for it, I'm against it. If they are against it, I vote for it.
This greatly simplifies the decision and voting process for me.
Under 'fiscal impact' they usually say whether the proposition will result in more money for the government or less. If the proposition results in less money for the government, I'm for it.
Another good indicator is who endorses the proposition. If teachers, fire fighters, and police (unions) are for it, I'm against it. If they are against it, I vote for it.
This greatly simplifies the decision and voting process for me.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Toyota Problems
This was one of the headlines on Yahoo his morning: "AP - Transportation Secretary Ray LaHood says he plans to speak with Toyota President Akio Toyoda about the auto maker's spate of recalls in the United States. LaHood confirms that the government is investigating potential electrical problems in Toyota vehicles."
It's a good example of government meddling in what should be none of their business. If Toyota makes an unsafe car, people will find out, and they will stop buying Toyotas. That will cost Toyota lots of money, and they will fix the problem. It does not require an investigation. It does not require a government bureaucrat meddling in the market. It does not require taxpayer money spent to support a huge government bureaucracy. It does not require a Department of Transportation. It does not require government at all. It is free people trading among themselves.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Haiti and Military Aid
Regarding the recent earthquake in Haiti, it is a massive tragedy; however, it brings to light a point for consideration.
The purpose of the US military is to defend our nation against foreign aggression. It is not to do charitable work. Charity is a wonderful side of humanity, but it is not what the military is equipped and trained to do. Military organizations are trained to kill and destroy, not to help people in need.
There are several organizations, such as the Red Cross, that specialize in that kind of work.
Americans (about 60% of us) pay taxes to the government for the benefit of our country. Our taxes are not supposed to be used for private benefit or for charity. Once again, charity is a beautiful action, but it is not a proper use of tax money. For those who want to give money or effort to help foreign countries in time of need, they are free to do that - with their own money - not money taken from other taxpayers.
The purpose of the US military is to defend our nation against foreign aggression. It is not to do charitable work. Charity is a wonderful side of humanity, but it is not what the military is equipped and trained to do. Military organizations are trained to kill and destroy, not to help people in need.
There are several organizations, such as the Red Cross, that specialize in that kind of work.
Americans (about 60% of us) pay taxes to the government for the benefit of our country. Our taxes are not supposed to be used for private benefit or for charity. Once again, charity is a beautiful action, but it is not a proper use of tax money. For those who want to give money or effort to help foreign countries in time of need, they are free to do that - with their own money - not money taken from other taxpayers.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Raising Kids
I wrote this several years ago, and I think it is still relevant.
If there is to be a world fit to live in, there must be parents willing to train their children to create that world and to live in that world. I think most parents in America today are on the wrong track. I think they are doing a poor job of raising kids fit for a world of nice people. Most kids of today are ill behaved, whining, screaming little criminals. They run their families, they are a nuisance to others, and their parents (who were raised the same way) let them get away with it. Bad behavior is accepted as “part of growing up.” They call it “self expression.”
A friend of ours was at dinner with us. We were having a pleasant conversation, when Heather, my 4 year old at the time, butted in, “Daniel’s putting French fries in his nose!” - or something like that.
I said, “Heather, I am talking with Lisa. Be quiet until we are done.”
Heather went back to her dinner. Lisa, mother of a 2 year old, seemed shocked. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll stifle her self-expression, or bruise her little ego, or something?”
“No,” I said, “Kids need to have their self-expression stifled a little. Can you imagine a world where everyone expressed everything they were feeling? Hell, I’d kill half the people I see and have sex the other half on the spot. I don’t want to live in a world like that, and I don’t want my kids to behave like that. She needs to learn to behave appropriately, and butting in while someone is talking is inconsiderate, rude, and inappropriate.”
It is now several years later, and Heather hardly ever interrupts anyone’s conversation. She waits patiently, and when there is a lull, she speaks. She is a very smart little girl, and she has a lot to say. Her self-expression is very much intact. With our training, she knows how to participate in an appropriate way. She is much more pleasant to be around than some 10, 12, or even 20 year olds who haven’t learned the art of polite conversation.
It took about three months to train her not to interrupt when other people are talking. Every time she interrupted a conversation between others, and I was present, I stopped her and asked her to wait until it was her turn – every time. It took some effort from me (and her mother), and we think it was worth it. We think it will have her life go better, and we think that is part of our job.
So, what is a parent’s job? I think our job is to raise human beings fit to live in a civilized world. We raise our kids to be people we enjoy being around, talking with, spending time with. It is not our job to be loved, or even liked, by our kids. It is not our job to coddle them or protect them from the natural consequences of their actions. As it happens, they do love us, and we enjoy that – but we don’t interact with them trying to get them to like us or love us. We try to teach them what is morally right, workable, and appropriate, whether they like us or not.
Once I was putting Heather down for her afternoon nap. She had been playing some game that she wanted to continue, and the nap interfered with it. After a few seconds of trying to persuade me that she didn’t really need a nap, she resorted to, “I don’t want a nap. You’re mean. I hate you.”
I smiled and said, “I got it (pause) and it’s still nap time.”
She has only tried that tactic a couple of times in her 6 years. I suspect that if it had worked, she would have used it again and again.
Along that same line, we never end a sentence with “OK?” Most parents seem to end almost every sentence with “OK?” nowadays. “Honey, we have to go now, OK?” “It’s time for dinner, OK?” “Don’t hit your sister, OK?” These kids apparently grow up thinking that’s the way to talk. For example, they grow up to be cops (on the TV show COPS) who often end their orders with “OK?” “Sir, you hit your wife with a baseball bat, OK?” You are under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon, OK?” “Turn around and put your hands behind your back, OK?” “Sit in my car, OK?” “We’re taking you to jail, OK?”
When you are in charge in the way parents and cops are, you should never ever ask if it is OK. Kids, like criminals, have no choice – besides, of course it is not OK!
You say to the kid, “It’s time for dinner.” “Sit down.” “Don’t hit your sister.” “Be quiet.” It is not a choice. It is an order from an authority.
And to the criminal, “Get out of the car.” “Drop the gun.” “Sit down.”
As adults, we understand that the “OK?” question is inauthentic and meaningless. At best, when we use “OK?” we really mean “do you understand?” Kids don’t have the capacity to understand that. It leads to resistance that is not present when you communicate in a simpler, more straightforward way.
For example, when it’s time to put our kids to bed we say, “Bedtime.” They get in bed; we tuck them in and kiss them good night; and leave the room. They go to sleep. They do not whine about it. They do not attempt to persuade us it is not bedtime. They don’t get up after we leave the room. They don’t talk and keep each other awake.
They tried these things a few times when they were one or two years old. They were never successful, not once. It took about a week to “bed train” them. Now, it is simply not an issue. I know other parents who are still trying to get their 10 and 12 year olds to go to bed at bedtime. “It’s time for bed, OK?” doesn’t work any better with a 12 year old than it did with a 2 year old.
When it is mealtime, we say, “Time for dinner.” Our kids come to the table and we have dinner.
When it’s time for school, we say, “Time for school.” They get in the car and we take them to school. No problem. No arguing. No whining. No discussion.
We never ask them if they want to go to school. We don’t ask if they want to go to bed. We don’t end sentences with, “OK?” We know it is not a choice, and they know it is not a choice.
When they were about five or so, each of them tried a couple of times “I don’t want to go to bed,” or something similar. We always acknowledge what they want, and we make it clear that what they want is not the deciding factor. We say something like, “I got that you don’t want to go to bed (pause) and it’s still time for bed, so you are going to bed.” That’s usually the end of the discussion. When they first tried the “I don’t want…” tactic, sometimes they’d persist with a couple of more attempts. Each was met with the same acknowledgement and steadfastness, “I heard you. You don’t want to have your bath now (pause) and you are going to have your bath, anyway.”
While I’m on the subject of choice, there are many areas where we allow the kids to make a choice. For example, “You can have a hamburger or a chicken sandwich. Which would you like?” “You can wear your blue shirt or the red one. Which do you want?” But if it is really not a choice, we don’t pretend that it is. A word to the wise – never give a child more than two alternatives unless you want to spend a long time having a detailed discussion about it.
I have heard parents say, “I have learned so much more from my children than they have from me.” I say if you are learning more from your children than they are learning from you, you are not doing your job. The parent should be the teacher, not the student. If you are even a mildly competent adult, your kids have nothing to teach you. They know nothing! Kids are little blobs of protoplasm, and it’s your job to turn them in human beings who can function in our world.
Most parents have 20 years or more of life experience. Kids have none. It is not a parent’s job to learn from kids. It is a parent’s job to teach.
While we have a lot of fun with our kids, and we recognize and applaud their innocence, we are not confused about who is teaching whom. We are the parents. They are the kids. We teach; they learn; period.
A family is not a democracy. This should be fairly obvious, but apparently it is not obvious to some parents. They are constantly asking their kids for opinions and votes. A family that works is not and cannot be a democracy. If the kids got a vote, you’d have jelly beans for every meal and watch cartoons all day. The bottom line is always, “because I said so.” Parents should use it often, with pride and without guilt.
When our kids were two or three, they began asking “why” about just about everything. Though it is tempting to answer their “why” questions, no good can come of it. It starts with perfectly innocent curiosity. “Why does this bug taste funny?” But if you answer even one “why” question, you will soon be answering many more. “Why do I have to go to bed?” “Why do you get to decide what we have for dinner?” “Why do I have to go to school” “Why do I have to obey the law?” “Why shouldn’t I smoke dope?”
Our kids are now 7 and 10, and they seldom ask “why” questions. They ask, how, when, what, who, and where questions, but seldom “why.” We trained them by answering almost every “why” question with either the standard Zen response or “because I said so.”
“Why is Daniel eating toilet paper?” Daniel is eating toilet paper because he is eating toilet paper. That’s what I mean by the standard Zen response.
“Why is poop brown?” Poop is brown because poop is brown.
“Why do I have to go to bed?” Because I said so.
“Why do I have to go to school?” Because I said so.
“Why do dogs lick their tails?” Dogs lick their tails because they lick their tails.
Once in a while I test them, “Daniel, why are you so smart?” He thinks only a second, and then grins, “Because I am smart!” “And Heather, why are you so beautiful?” “Because I am beautiful!” And so she is, and so he is.
If there is to be a world fit to live in, there must be parents willing to train their children to create that world and to live in that world. I think most parents in America today are on the wrong track. I think they are doing a poor job of raising kids fit for a world of nice people. Most kids of today are ill behaved, whining, screaming little criminals. They run their families, they are a nuisance to others, and their parents (who were raised the same way) let them get away with it. Bad behavior is accepted as “part of growing up.” They call it “self expression.”
A friend of ours was at dinner with us. We were having a pleasant conversation, when Heather, my 4 year old at the time, butted in, “Daniel’s putting French fries in his nose!” - or something like that.
I said, “Heather, I am talking with Lisa. Be quiet until we are done.”
Heather went back to her dinner. Lisa, mother of a 2 year old, seemed shocked. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll stifle her self-expression, or bruise her little ego, or something?”
“No,” I said, “Kids need to have their self-expression stifled a little. Can you imagine a world where everyone expressed everything they were feeling? Hell, I’d kill half the people I see and have sex the other half on the spot. I don’t want to live in a world like that, and I don’t want my kids to behave like that. She needs to learn to behave appropriately, and butting in while someone is talking is inconsiderate, rude, and inappropriate.”
It is now several years later, and Heather hardly ever interrupts anyone’s conversation. She waits patiently, and when there is a lull, she speaks. She is a very smart little girl, and she has a lot to say. Her self-expression is very much intact. With our training, she knows how to participate in an appropriate way. She is much more pleasant to be around than some 10, 12, or even 20 year olds who haven’t learned the art of polite conversation.
It took about three months to train her not to interrupt when other people are talking. Every time she interrupted a conversation between others, and I was present, I stopped her and asked her to wait until it was her turn – every time. It took some effort from me (and her mother), and we think it was worth it. We think it will have her life go better, and we think that is part of our job.
So, what is a parent’s job? I think our job is to raise human beings fit to live in a civilized world. We raise our kids to be people we enjoy being around, talking with, spending time with. It is not our job to be loved, or even liked, by our kids. It is not our job to coddle them or protect them from the natural consequences of their actions. As it happens, they do love us, and we enjoy that – but we don’t interact with them trying to get them to like us or love us. We try to teach them what is morally right, workable, and appropriate, whether they like us or not.
Once I was putting Heather down for her afternoon nap. She had been playing some game that she wanted to continue, and the nap interfered with it. After a few seconds of trying to persuade me that she didn’t really need a nap, she resorted to, “I don’t want a nap. You’re mean. I hate you.”
I smiled and said, “I got it (pause) and it’s still nap time.”
She has only tried that tactic a couple of times in her 6 years. I suspect that if it had worked, she would have used it again and again.
Along that same line, we never end a sentence with “OK?” Most parents seem to end almost every sentence with “OK?” nowadays. “Honey, we have to go now, OK?” “It’s time for dinner, OK?” “Don’t hit your sister, OK?” These kids apparently grow up thinking that’s the way to talk. For example, they grow up to be cops (on the TV show COPS) who often end their orders with “OK?” “Sir, you hit your wife with a baseball bat, OK?” You are under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon, OK?” “Turn around and put your hands behind your back, OK?” “Sit in my car, OK?” “We’re taking you to jail, OK?”
When you are in charge in the way parents and cops are, you should never ever ask if it is OK. Kids, like criminals, have no choice – besides, of course it is not OK!
You say to the kid, “It’s time for dinner.” “Sit down.” “Don’t hit your sister.” “Be quiet.” It is not a choice. It is an order from an authority.
And to the criminal, “Get out of the car.” “Drop the gun.” “Sit down.”
As adults, we understand that the “OK?” question is inauthentic and meaningless. At best, when we use “OK?” we really mean “do you understand?” Kids don’t have the capacity to understand that. It leads to resistance that is not present when you communicate in a simpler, more straightforward way.
For example, when it’s time to put our kids to bed we say, “Bedtime.” They get in bed; we tuck them in and kiss them good night; and leave the room. They go to sleep. They do not whine about it. They do not attempt to persuade us it is not bedtime. They don’t get up after we leave the room. They don’t talk and keep each other awake.
They tried these things a few times when they were one or two years old. They were never successful, not once. It took about a week to “bed train” them. Now, it is simply not an issue. I know other parents who are still trying to get their 10 and 12 year olds to go to bed at bedtime. “It’s time for bed, OK?” doesn’t work any better with a 12 year old than it did with a 2 year old.
When it is mealtime, we say, “Time for dinner.” Our kids come to the table and we have dinner.
When it’s time for school, we say, “Time for school.” They get in the car and we take them to school. No problem. No arguing. No whining. No discussion.
We never ask them if they want to go to school. We don’t ask if they want to go to bed. We don’t end sentences with, “OK?” We know it is not a choice, and they know it is not a choice.
When they were about five or so, each of them tried a couple of times “I don’t want to go to bed,” or something similar. We always acknowledge what they want, and we make it clear that what they want is not the deciding factor. We say something like, “I got that you don’t want to go to bed (pause) and it’s still time for bed, so you are going to bed.” That’s usually the end of the discussion. When they first tried the “I don’t want…” tactic, sometimes they’d persist with a couple of more attempts. Each was met with the same acknowledgement and steadfastness, “I heard you. You don’t want to have your bath now (pause) and you are going to have your bath, anyway.”
While I’m on the subject of choice, there are many areas where we allow the kids to make a choice. For example, “You can have a hamburger or a chicken sandwich. Which would you like?” “You can wear your blue shirt or the red one. Which do you want?” But if it is really not a choice, we don’t pretend that it is. A word to the wise – never give a child more than two alternatives unless you want to spend a long time having a detailed discussion about it.
I have heard parents say, “I have learned so much more from my children than they have from me.” I say if you are learning more from your children than they are learning from you, you are not doing your job. The parent should be the teacher, not the student. If you are even a mildly competent adult, your kids have nothing to teach you. They know nothing! Kids are little blobs of protoplasm, and it’s your job to turn them in human beings who can function in our world.
Most parents have 20 years or more of life experience. Kids have none. It is not a parent’s job to learn from kids. It is a parent’s job to teach.
While we have a lot of fun with our kids, and we recognize and applaud their innocence, we are not confused about who is teaching whom. We are the parents. They are the kids. We teach; they learn; period.
A family is not a democracy. This should be fairly obvious, but apparently it is not obvious to some parents. They are constantly asking their kids for opinions and votes. A family that works is not and cannot be a democracy. If the kids got a vote, you’d have jelly beans for every meal and watch cartoons all day. The bottom line is always, “because I said so.” Parents should use it often, with pride and without guilt.
When our kids were two or three, they began asking “why” about just about everything. Though it is tempting to answer their “why” questions, no good can come of it. It starts with perfectly innocent curiosity. “Why does this bug taste funny?” But if you answer even one “why” question, you will soon be answering many more. “Why do I have to go to bed?” “Why do you get to decide what we have for dinner?” “Why do I have to go to school” “Why do I have to obey the law?” “Why shouldn’t I smoke dope?”
Our kids are now 7 and 10, and they seldom ask “why” questions. They ask, how, when, what, who, and where questions, but seldom “why.” We trained them by answering almost every “why” question with either the standard Zen response or “because I said so.”
“Why is Daniel eating toilet paper?” Daniel is eating toilet paper because he is eating toilet paper. That’s what I mean by the standard Zen response.
“Why is poop brown?” Poop is brown because poop is brown.
“Why do I have to go to bed?” Because I said so.
“Why do I have to go to school?” Because I said so.
“Why do dogs lick their tails?” Dogs lick their tails because they lick their tails.
Once in a while I test them, “Daniel, why are you so smart?” He thinks only a second, and then grins, “Because I am smart!” “And Heather, why are you so beautiful?” “Because I am beautiful!” And so she is, and so he is.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Reverse Robin Hood Program
I didn't get it at first, but the $600 rebate idea is brilliant. Somebody managed to sneak an idea past the feds that actually works. Here's what I mean:
Normally, anything the government does regarding the economy is wrong, period. Every action they take makes matters worse or prolongs a bad situation - e.g., the mortgage/credit scenario.
The federal government routinely engages in massive redistribution of wealth - usually, they take money from those who earned it and give it to those who didn't. Basically, they take from producers and give to parasites. You know, the Robin Hood principle - "Take from the rich and give to the poor."
The $600 rebate is different. It is the only program that simply gives people money regardless of their producer/parasite status. You don't have to be "needy" or "disadvantaged" or any other kind of non-producer to get the money.
So, what will be the result of this sort of rebate (you didn't ask)? Producers will save the money or they will invest in something useful to grow their business or their life. Parasites will spend it frivolously on such things as booze, potato chips, rock concerts, tattoos, and illegal drugs. The result will be that money will move from the hands of parasites to the hands of producers. That's a good thing!
With that in mind, I advocate a huge increase in that program. We'll call it the Reverse Robin Hood Program. Let's give everyone $50,000 or $100,000, and watch the economy grow! Better still, give people all their money back. Or, even better, don't take money from producers in the first place. Abolish the IRS and let people keep whatever they earn.
Hmmm, I think this was tried before, during the first 150 years of a country called the USA. That country grew from nothing to the most powerful nation on earth with no income tax. Amazing, huh?
Normally, anything the government does regarding the economy is wrong, period. Every action they take makes matters worse or prolongs a bad situation - e.g., the mortgage/credit scenario.
The federal government routinely engages in massive redistribution of wealth - usually, they take money from those who earned it and give it to those who didn't. Basically, they take from producers and give to parasites. You know, the Robin Hood principle - "Take from the rich and give to the poor."
The $600 rebate is different. It is the only program that simply gives people money regardless of their producer/parasite status. You don't have to be "needy" or "disadvantaged" or any other kind of non-producer to get the money.
So, what will be the result of this sort of rebate (you didn't ask)? Producers will save the money or they will invest in something useful to grow their business or their life. Parasites will spend it frivolously on such things as booze, potato chips, rock concerts, tattoos, and illegal drugs. The result will be that money will move from the hands of parasites to the hands of producers. That's a good thing!
With that in mind, I advocate a huge increase in that program. We'll call it the Reverse Robin Hood Program. Let's give everyone $50,000 or $100,000, and watch the economy grow! Better still, give people all their money back. Or, even better, don't take money from producers in the first place. Abolish the IRS and let people keep whatever they earn.
Hmmm, I think this was tried before, during the first 150 years of a country called the USA. That country grew from nothing to the most powerful nation on earth with no income tax. Amazing, huh?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
The First Time
The First Time
The first computer I ever saw was at Vanderbilt University in 1961, while on a high school field trip. I was much more interested in the fact that the building next door was the gymnasium where the Vandy basketball team practiced. The thought of seeing one of my heroes in the flesh, generated much more excitement than hearing about the monster computer blinking stupidly at me and the other 30 wide-eyed high school teenagers.
So, I don't remember much about the computer except that it was very big and very gray. It had lots of tiny flashing lights in its “Control Center,” and it lived in a room about the size of the lot my house sits on today. The lights were all the same color and arranged in tidy boring rows on the rectangular panel at the Control Center, which was merely a fold-down desktop with an office chair in front of it. There were about a hundred switches on the control panel – also in straight perfect rows. The chair was vacant. I wondered who was “controlling” the giant machine.
There were no transistors in it. The whole thing used vacuum tubes (thousands of them), arranged in neat rows like the lights on the Control Panel. The operators opened one of the hundreds of dull gray cabinets to let us stare at the little tubes. They were called “peanut” tubes, owing to their size, but they reminded me of white Christmas lights that were a little too dim, and too tidy.
The little tubes had to be replaced on a fairly regular basis, and several technicians were on duty 24 hours a day to keep it running. I thought it was somehow strange to have these men serving this machine, especially since the machine didn’t seem to be doing anything but making the lights blink on the control panel, and using lots of electricity to light the Christmas lights that were hidden away in the gray cabinets.
Since then I have met many machines. An IBM 1401 with a disk drive about as tall as I am (over six feet), a 7094 which lived in the basement (actually three floors below ground) of the math building at Purdue University, a Microdata machine about the size of a refrigerator with a 20 MB hard drive which looked like a matching dishwasher, and hundreds of PCs and laptops.
The machines all seemed to have what I hesitate to call a “personality.” Looking back, I realize now that I began to associate each machine with a person I knew at the time. I don't remember much about the machines, but I can recall quite a bit about the people.
The first 1401 I encountered, for example, brings to mind a young naval officer I knew at the time. He liked to putter around and tinker with things. You've met people like Carl, I'm sure. He would spend hours fiddling with something on the computer, when it could have been worked out in 10 minutes with a pencil and paper. Carl once wrote a program to print out the disk and track where the seek head was located at any given second. There was no use for it, but he wrote it, anyway. He was just tinkering. Carl eventually went to work for Burroughs – a good match, I thought.
The first 7094 I saw, a basically solid machine which never seemed to complete anything, reminds me of my roommate at college. Marvin (I went to college when roommates were always the same sex) was an intelligent, healthy, apparently competent person. He was about six feet tall – slightly taller than the 7094. He wore brown horn-rimmed glasses, white dress shirts, and jeans, complementing his “computer geek” image. The word geek had not yet been invented, but Marvin was truly a geek.
Marvin never took on anything that offered the possibility of reaching a conclusion. His mission in life seemed to be to work a problem to death without solving it. Marvin worked well with the 7094 because it seldom completed a program but always gave him several pages of reasons why not. Marvin was in the Navy and is probably retired by now. The 7094 is retired, too.
I met my first Microdata Reality machine in 1975. The Microdata always seemed like a pleasant friendly machine to me. Though it had its unique quirks, it was user-friendly, accommodating, and just plain fun – like the young woman I met at the printer while we were waiting for our output one day.
She had long, shiny, dark brown hair and a pleasant smile.
I stuck my thumbs in my belt, sidled up to her and said, "Yuh come here often, ma’am?" I used my best Texican accent.
"Unfortunately, yes,” she smiled.
“What’s yer name?”
“Melody,” she said, offering her hand.
“I’m Steve. Yuh wanna fool around?" Us Texicans get right to the point.
"Uhh – No?” but she was still smiling and her dancing brown eyes said maybe.
Her voice had the sort of husky quality of certain actresses and women who do the nightly news. It reminded me of Lindsay Wagner, the woman who did several Ford TV commercials.
Our conversations grew longer and we grew closer as the days passed. We talked computers, family, and life. We shared a chocolate milkshake, watched a sunset or two, and yes, we fooled around.
Eventually, I moved out of state and then to Australia, and I lost touch with her. Her face merged with other pretty faces, but her memory still tugs at me when I see an old Microdata machine. There have been other machines and women since then, but I guess I will always remember that gentle, friendly Microdata and Melody. There's just something special about your first time.
The first computer I ever saw was at Vanderbilt University in 1961, while on a high school field trip. I was much more interested in the fact that the building next door was the gymnasium where the Vandy basketball team practiced. The thought of seeing one of my heroes in the flesh, generated much more excitement than hearing about the monster computer blinking stupidly at me and the other 30 wide-eyed high school teenagers.
So, I don't remember much about the computer except that it was very big and very gray. It had lots of tiny flashing lights in its “Control Center,” and it lived in a room about the size of the lot my house sits on today. The lights were all the same color and arranged in tidy boring rows on the rectangular panel at the Control Center, which was merely a fold-down desktop with an office chair in front of it. There were about a hundred switches on the control panel – also in straight perfect rows. The chair was vacant. I wondered who was “controlling” the giant machine.
There were no transistors in it. The whole thing used vacuum tubes (thousands of them), arranged in neat rows like the lights on the Control Panel. The operators opened one of the hundreds of dull gray cabinets to let us stare at the little tubes. They were called “peanut” tubes, owing to their size, but they reminded me of white Christmas lights that were a little too dim, and too tidy.
The little tubes had to be replaced on a fairly regular basis, and several technicians were on duty 24 hours a day to keep it running. I thought it was somehow strange to have these men serving this machine, especially since the machine didn’t seem to be doing anything but making the lights blink on the control panel, and using lots of electricity to light the Christmas lights that were hidden away in the gray cabinets.
Since then I have met many machines. An IBM 1401 with a disk drive about as tall as I am (over six feet), a 7094 which lived in the basement (actually three floors below ground) of the math building at Purdue University, a Microdata machine about the size of a refrigerator with a 20 MB hard drive which looked like a matching dishwasher, and hundreds of PCs and laptops.
The machines all seemed to have what I hesitate to call a “personality.” Looking back, I realize now that I began to associate each machine with a person I knew at the time. I don't remember much about the machines, but I can recall quite a bit about the people.
The first 1401 I encountered, for example, brings to mind a young naval officer I knew at the time. He liked to putter around and tinker with things. You've met people like Carl, I'm sure. He would spend hours fiddling with something on the computer, when it could have been worked out in 10 minutes with a pencil and paper. Carl once wrote a program to print out the disk and track where the seek head was located at any given second. There was no use for it, but he wrote it, anyway. He was just tinkering. Carl eventually went to work for Burroughs – a good match, I thought.
The first 7094 I saw, a basically solid machine which never seemed to complete anything, reminds me of my roommate at college. Marvin (I went to college when roommates were always the same sex) was an intelligent, healthy, apparently competent person. He was about six feet tall – slightly taller than the 7094. He wore brown horn-rimmed glasses, white dress shirts, and jeans, complementing his “computer geek” image. The word geek had not yet been invented, but Marvin was truly a geek.
Marvin never took on anything that offered the possibility of reaching a conclusion. His mission in life seemed to be to work a problem to death without solving it. Marvin worked well with the 7094 because it seldom completed a program but always gave him several pages of reasons why not. Marvin was in the Navy and is probably retired by now. The 7094 is retired, too.
I met my first Microdata Reality machine in 1975. The Microdata always seemed like a pleasant friendly machine to me. Though it had its unique quirks, it was user-friendly, accommodating, and just plain fun – like the young woman I met at the printer while we were waiting for our output one day.
She had long, shiny, dark brown hair and a pleasant smile.
I stuck my thumbs in my belt, sidled up to her and said, "Yuh come here often, ma’am?" I used my best Texican accent.
"Unfortunately, yes,” she smiled.
“What’s yer name?”
“Melody,” she said, offering her hand.
“I’m Steve. Yuh wanna fool around?" Us Texicans get right to the point.
"Uhh – No?” but she was still smiling and her dancing brown eyes said maybe.
Her voice had the sort of husky quality of certain actresses and women who do the nightly news. It reminded me of Lindsay Wagner, the woman who did several Ford TV commercials.
Our conversations grew longer and we grew closer as the days passed. We talked computers, family, and life. We shared a chocolate milkshake, watched a sunset or two, and yes, we fooled around.
Eventually, I moved out of state and then to Australia, and I lost touch with her. Her face merged with other pretty faces, but her memory still tugs at me when I see an old Microdata machine. There have been other machines and women since then, but I guess I will always remember that gentle, friendly Microdata and Melody. There's just something special about your first time.
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