Hell, I am feeling old.
It was the 1970s when dad dragged me along to a
lecture on computers. “This is the future”, he modestly declared. Yeah right, I thought. By the ’80s my barely articulate son was programming the early
computer in ‘basic’, and my wife was teaching computer literacy. By the ’90s
my father was repairing and upgrading his own PC.
No mention of me yet, you
notice. Always a slow learner with an ‘up the govt’ attitude. With this
lineage, I waited until the new century to pick out my first Apple computer.
It was love at first sight, even if a kind friend had programmed the thing to
constantly harp at me in a metallic voice saying “you can’t do that John” or
‘that’s not my fault” during the constant crashes. I wasn’t going to let the
mother beat me though, and I was hooked.
What brought on all this reflection? Well here I am, writing a blog for a
tech magazine while listening to jazz on the radio via the web on my Mac.
This morning I cruised around town tuned into a London classical station on
the iPhone. Shit, I am turning into a cool guy. I only look old because of
the history. Ignore that and what you see is an excited kid with some new
toys. Sometimes I am still slow, like spending an hour in Sydney CBD last
week trying to find any remaining CD stores. How quaint.
At the airport on the way back I had to have my tongue surgically removed from an iPad 2, and
this is a guy who had just been frisked by customs for absently carrying a
water bottle. What has become of me, and what would my late father say? I
don’t know, but don’t let my son or my ex-wife know. I would hate them to
think they had it right. JOHN GROOM