Sold on incarnation

I am an unwilling explorer of cyberspace. For years I managed not to go there. My handwriting was adequate for everyday purposes, my avocado green IBM Selectric sufficed for more formal projects, and I happily received my mail through the post office. As the world warmed to personal computers, I began to tune out conversations about microchips the same way I tuned out conversations about professional football. I did not understand either language and I did not want to learn.

In 1992 I broke down and bought a laptop. If you have ever tried to type a book manuscript on an IBM Selectric, then I do not need to explain. A machine that produces perfect copy with no Wite-Out fumes is impossible to resist. The laptop was much more expensive than a desk model, but at least I could close it when I was not using it. That way my study still looked like a study instead of like an air traffic controller’s post.


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