I hate writing in Word.
Now, I am writing this document in Microsoft Word. But I don’t like it. In fact, I have to trick myself into using Word to write creatively. For instance, I’m not just using regular old modern Word 365. I’m creating this document in Word 2000, on my Toshiba Satellite laptop, which is running Windows 98. That, at least, makes the writing experience a little more interesting to me.
Someone else will have to be the judge of whether or not it makes my writing more interesting. Going by the smug expression on his face, Clippy, perched comfortably in the corner of my screen, does not think it helps.
I think that the main issue for me is that I get distracted too easily. That, and I don’t have a big project deadline looming to motivate me to get busy and get things done. It is still important, however, for a writer to write regularly. I used to try and use writing prompts, which is an exercise I enjoy. But short stories, and fiction in general, just isn’t my strong suit. I’m much more the folksy, and some would perhaps say angry, observational/editorial type, not unlike Andy Rooney from 60 Minutes (that’s just for all the Boomers out there).
So, to stimulate myself into writing more, I decided that I would just have a conversation with my computer. That, and I would write using interesting machines.
Which brings me to retro-computing.
Retro-computing is the hobby of collecting, restoring, using, and learning about “retro-computers.” There’s a lot of debate over what a retro, or vintage computer really is; there are many sub-groups in this hobby. My particular proclivity is collecting and using obsolete word processing programs. My favorite is definitely WordStar 4.0. The more easy I am able to integrate the obsolete technology into my work life, the higher it ranks on the scale. WordStar 4.0 ranks at the top, but that’s another story for another day.
I think it is accurate to assign everyone involved in the retro-computing hobby into two large groups, regardless of their specific area of interest. The first group is comprised of those people looking to relive the computing of their youth. There are Boomers looking to talk about punch cards, older Gen Xers looking for the Apple II’s on which they played The Oregon Trail, and people like me who are looking for that weird orange-on-black monitor our mother had on their IBM clone, so it looks just right when we play the text adventure Border Zone, or Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
I still haven’t found that monitor. I did, however, pick up this Toshiba Satellite at the Vintage Computer Festival – Midwest 19 (VCFM 19) this year, so I consider my visit a success. (It has a CD drive AND a 3.5 inch floppy drive…score!)
The second group is comprised of people who are looking for computing alternatives to all the modern solutions. This is the group that gives me hope for the future.
Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I love my Lenovo ThinkPad. It is fast and convenient. I use it every day at work and at home. But it isn’t fun. It doesn’t allow me to “tinker” with it. It’s the difference between driving my modern car, versus, say, a Model A Ford. To go get my groceries, to take a trip, to travel back and forth to work, it’s a no-brainer: the 2019 Dodge Journey will get the job done reliably. But if it breaks down, there isn’t much of a choice but to take it to a mechanic and pay the several hundreds of dollars it will take to make it right.
With the Model A, it’s a bit different. It doesn’t have all the modern conveniences, but it has all the things fundamental to “car-ness.” It is still recognizable as a motor vehicle, even to someone unfamiliar with vintage cars. You might not want to take a cross-country trip in it, though it could certainly be done. And furthermore, if you did take such a trip, and the car broke down, barring something catastrophic like breaking an axle or throwing a rod, with a little research and practice, you could probably fix it yourself with a standard Craftsman toolbox.
In other words, the thing that a Model A Ford and a Packard Bell 486 running Windows 95 have in common is the potential for independence.
The modern computer is the modern car. The vintage computer is the vintage car. People in the tech industry certainly have the knowledge and tools to crack open modern machines and “do stuff” to them. But it isn’t the same as opening up that beige pizza box or tower case. That was a much more realistic proposition for the proverbial shade-tree computer mechanic.
Most importantly for me, however, is that modern machines are infected with “convenient” features like Microsoft’s AI copilot. When I bought my most recent modern laptop, it had an exciting Copilot icon in the corner. “Try me!” No thank you. Then, one day when I logged on, the feature was just…on. Activated. I had to go into settings and turn it off, if that is in fact what I accomplished with all my clicking around.
Someone much more cynical and paranoid than myself might think that all the AI assistants being added to computers and other electronic devices today could be made to double as electronic spies and censors for an overbearing and intrusive federal government.
Or, to go back to our car analogy...
The modern car is convenient, comfortable, and reliable for all our modern daily tasks. The tinfoil hat-wearing cynic might also point out that those vehicles, with all their OnStars and their GPS mapping capabilities, are capable of being tracked by the government at all times, and can even be disabled in some cases. With the Model A, one would have complete freedom of mobility and anonymity.
It’s a case of how much freedom and autonomy you’re willing to trade for how much comfort and convenience.
So, Group #2 is at the VCFM looking to learn about computing when it was much more of a Wild West. They want to learn how to use and work on their machines. They want to push them to the limits of usability; to see just how much they can fit them into their modern daily lives. They want to learn how to communicate using the BBS and share files. And they want to do these things without being watched like a potential criminal, and without having to subscribe to some damned cloud-based app (Don’t forget, the cloud is just someone else’s computer.)
They want to have one little corner of their digital life that flies under Big Brother’s radar.
I’m a part of both groups, I suppose. There’s a lot of nostalgia coursing though my veins after the show. I also bought a Vic 20 breadbox, and got to see the 8-bit Guy and Krazy Ken of the Computer Clan. But I’m also appreciative for those in Group #2 who want to preserve the “old ways.
…just in case...