Thursday, October 01, 2009
A Luddite - I've Had It With Modern "Conveniences"
I'm getting one of these. Soon. Soon, as in I-wish-I-had-it-2-Days-Ago soon. Call me a Luddite. Go ahead. I welcome the label. I'll go out and buy a t-shirt emblazoned with a large L and I'll wear that t-shirt proudly.I'm not what you'd call a leading edge kind of guy. Slavic sensibilities dictate that I stand on the sidewalk and watch the parade of fearless leading-edgers straggle by, all cut up, bleeding, and limb-less. Let these curious, daring, masochistic types soldier on, I say. Me, I'll wait until the fallout of new products has been cleaned up leaving items proven to work.
So, I thought it was safe a few years back to venture into the electronic memopads, the Palm Pilot world. I've had my Palm Pilot II for about 8 years now, generally pleased with the single purpose I'd used it for, namely replacing a compressed and tattered memo pad wadded up in various backpockets. But, the hiccups with the PP II were getting more unpleasant. The mysterious disappearance of entries, the total disappearance of all entries, the fast battery drain, the screen one couldn't read in any dim light.
Then, 2 days ago, a complete shutdown. Batteries zonked, data disappeared, on/off tab inconsistently working and, horror of horrors, I hadn't backed up the PP II in over 3 months as my barely-1-yr-old Dell, nicknamed Dreck, crashed. I was not a happy camper.
Streadily over the last 3-4 months, I have had it with the galaxy of electronica; I'm setting off into a different universe (how's this astronomy analogy holding up? Inaccurate, right?). I'm tired of backing up data. I'm tired of punching stuff in and than re-punching as my fingers clumsily spell out things differently than what my brain is telling them. I'm tired of loading batteries upon batteries into things that are alleged "life" support devices. What the heck's wrong with a manual operation? My handwriting's gone to hell from disuse. Penmanship was next to Godliness when I was a tyke; now it's totally jumblethwacked.
So, with hopes that my mind does remember some of those passwords, codes, and pseudonyms I've devised for my sites, my charge cards, my bank, my zen chants, I'll be jotting them down into this book. A book, which will be permanently chained to my body so that my manual auxiliary memory will be close to me.
Now, if I could only find a replacement for this, I'd be a smiling fool. Think this may work? I've got spools and spools of string somewhere down in the basement..
Labels: Domestic Burdens, Effluvia, Idiosyncracies, Life Decisions
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