I thought I was getting a good head start on my future in this technologically-obsessed culture. I took computer science in high school. Our school was well funded, and we had some of the latest technological equipment. We had a main frame computer, and our typing classrooms were equipped with electric typewriters. (The other high school in town was still using manual typewriters.)
In my grade eleven computer science class, we were taught to write programs in Fortran, which back then was on the cutting edge of computer languages. We wrote our programs one line at a time on paper cards with soft pencils, and then fed the stack of cards into the mainframe. We had user cards which, as I recall, allowed us eight seconds of computer time. (This put a limit on our favorite infantile trick: run a program with an endless loop of “skip a page”, which would result in the computer spewing out blank sheets of paper until our time ran out.)
Then in grade twelve, we advanced to a computer language called Cobalt, which as I recall, contained more words that Fortran. We were allowed to use the keypunch machine, which was just a keyboard which punched holes in the paper cards, so we didn't have to use a pencil to mark the bubbles. Now we were really moving up the ladder of technical prowess! I somehow managed one day to get the machine to spew out reams of unpunched cards, just like in the movie “Nine to Five”. I had to unplug the machine to end the projectile vomiting of paper cards.
One day, our teacher brought in something called a “personal computer” or just PC, as a show and tell object. We had never seen anything like it. He had written a fun program in which we entered data for a motorcycle stunt: the angle of the ramp, speed of the motorcycle, objects to try to jump over; and the computer would calculate whether or not your stuntman survived, and if he did, what bodily injury he suffered. No graphics. Cutting edge technology!
While in university taking my bachelor of education, I got a job in the library. We had an astonishingly new program for signing out books. We just waved a magic wand over something called a barcode, and about one in three times it actually worked! (The other two times, we had to manually enter all of the numbers on the barcode - I think there must have been about 16 digits.) I was really advanced now! Except when it came to logging in or out of the system. I usually had to get help to get all of those steps in order.
When I started teaching, my principal put a computer in each classroom! Ours had a pink monitor! I used programs that captured the students' interests and motivated them to learn. There was one for spelling practice: I could enter a list of words, then the student would see one word at a time, copy it three times, and then it would vanish and the student would have to type it from memory. If it was correct, a yellow smiley face would show up. If not, they had to start over. They loved it!
For my own use, I had access to a word processing program called “Q”. Basically, I used the computer as a glorified typewriter. Actually, sometimes I would get frustrated with not being able to get the printout to match what the screen showed, so I would go back to my typewriter. At least then I could control where the words would end up on the page. I had no idea how to use the features of the program. Cutting and pasting? That is what I would end up doing with the printout before photocopying. Those stick glues worked really well!
Then I took a five-year maternity leave, and when I came back, everyone else was using computers with something called Microsoft Word. I was overwhelmed with all of the little pictures, and couldn't figure out what this attachment called a “mouse” was for. My attempts to use it were hilarious!
Somehow, in those five years I spent at home watching cartoons and reading “The Cat in the Hat” so often I had it committed to memory, the whole technological world passed me by. Now I must rely on my children to help me to use the computer. They have these tiny but unbelievably expensive gadgets called MP3 players and ipods that they insist are already obsolete by the time we get home and open the packages.
I am slowly adapting to this new world. It took awhile, but I finally figured out that when people sent attachments with their emails to me, I had to click on the little paper clip before I could see what they sent. I sent a few replies to friends to inform them that they must have neglected to include the information that their emails said they were sending me. My 14 year old laughs at how I do everything the long way. She somehow manages to keep several MSN conversations going while she watches videos and listens to music from You tube at the same time. It baffles me. At least she lets me use the computer to write these little blurbs for Triond while she is at school or asleep. Then I have to wait for her help if I want to get fancy and add graphics. She is at school now, so this article won't include any graphics. I would need her help to take pictures with the digital camera anyway.
