The sad irrelavence of the old
Moving to a new and different kind of computer is like moving into a new house. First, you must learn to navigate a different set of rooms. Second, you must get the basics you enjoy setup. In my case getting my new computer to work with gmail, installing Firefox, linking to my favorite websites, etc. Then I must decide about purchasing yet another copy of Microsoft Office. It’s so damned expensive even though it’s nice. Open Office is functional and free. Free is good even if not pretty.
The third thing is the most problematic: deciding what to import from my old computer. I have not started to do that. There is so much junk left on the old computer. Importing all of it seems a waste of time. It is funny that so much of the work, which one time seemed important, is easily replaceable or worth nothing.
So, when it comes right down to it, I have some writing and some writing templates I want to keep. I cannot think of much else. Most of the other stuff is on some server out in the Internet.
It seems the old stuff documents a life of trivial pursuits and lost journeys on forgotten highways. It is like these posts, something to quickly disappear and hide on some Google server. That probably is a good thing. Computers for the masses are designed to be media machines; the relevance of media does not last long.
The iPhone is the new thing—the computer of the future. It needs a dock that you can plug a keyboard and monitor into. Then it needs a feature to import and export data to a server on the Internet.
I like my new iPhone and Mac.
Standing on the borderAnd so it goes.
Looking out into the great unknown
I can feel my heart beating faster as I step out on my own
There's a new horizon and the promise of favorable wind
I'm heading out tonight, traveling light
I'm gonna start all over again
And buy a one way ticket on a west bound train
See how far I can go
(Because I can)
I'm gonna go out dancing in the pouring rain
And talk to someone I don't know
(Because I can)
Leann Rimes, One Way Ticket