whenever I want to. I just don't want to.
Perhaps one of the most ironic conversations I ever had went something like this:
Graduate Library School Advisor, 1976: You still need to take an elective. Have you thought about a computer class?
Me, smug and smirking: Oh, no. I'm going to be a school librarian. When will I ever touch a computer?
This followed a summer of office work, in an office whose billing system had just been computerized. (We're talking here about an off-site mainframe, and a terminal about the size of a Buick.) All the women in the office were slow to catch on, but I picked it right up, and taught them how to do it. One of them suggested that I would have a bright future working with computers. I was actually revolted by the thought. "I'm going to work with children," I thought, with a good deal of arrogance. "That's so much more important than computers!"
You get the picture. I had no idea then what computers were going to be, or become, but who did? Could I have any idea that I would be sitting at a desk in my own home in 2003, typing on a computer the size of a looseleaf binder that was literally more powerful than the computer that sent men to the moon in 1969?
Uh, no.
I don't have to tell you that as a school librarian, I spend about 90% of my time using a computer or teaching kids to use them. I administer the Internet access system (passwords, the filter, and such) in my school. I manage the school's 100+ page website, which is a euphemism that means I've written almost every word, taken almost every picture, created all the relevant policies. I show everyone else how to keep up their own sites, if they have them.
I recently bought a nice new desk at home with a special niche for my laptop, with doors and cabinets to keep the printer and scanner handy, yet cunningly hidden. I've got gadgets and gizmos and programs that let me play with my computer all day long, if I want to. I like toys, grownup toys, and the computer is an excellent one of those.
And now I'm going on vacation, two mini-vacations, actually, to Florida for four days and then Colorado for six. I'm not crazy about flying and going through security, and I don't enjoy disruption in my life, but, hey, it's an adventure; here I go.
I can't go without the computer, can I?
I mean, literally, I can't go without a computer. At all. Can I?
Well, I could, of course; of course, I could. If I'm sick or something, I don't touch the computer much. I was away for a few days a couple of weeks ago, and I didn't bring it with me. Of course, I was busy for 20 hours a day each day with 180 high school seniors, so I didn't exactly have time on my hands.
I tried my hand at some writing while I was away, by hand. I didn't like it. My hand cramps up; it's getting worse all the time. Not from age, I think; my hand cramps up when I write because it's not accustomed to doing that so much anymore. I almost always write at the keyboard.
I've got some easy games on the computer (I'm not very good at games), and all my mp3 files. I could watch a DVD. I could do crossword puzzles. Doesn't sound like much.
My mother used to tease me; she'd say "Oh, you're playing with your computer again." I tried to explain that the computer is just a tool, like a really fancy pencil. It's only as good as it will do what you need it to do.
Hmmmm, pencil. A really fancy pencil.
I'll admit it: I'm a computer addict. I love to tinker with my desktop theme, and the screensaver. I love all the fonts. When the drama teacher at school apologized for giving me so much stuff to add to the club's website, my daughter told him "Are you kidding? This is her Christmas." I love to work with webpages, and even HTML. I don't have too many other hobbies. This got to be my hobby.
Can I quit? Sure. Anytime I want to. I just don't want to.
written for pieces of you
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I'm watching Larry King
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