Thursday, June 26, 2008
I regret to inform you!
Get this…so I just arrived in Columbus, hopped in a rent car, nearing B&K’s house when Steph calls me with panic still in her voice. Continental Airlines just called her and started the conversation with, “is this Ms. Bassett?”.”uh, yes” came the reply..."can you confirm if Sidney Bassett was aboard Continental flight 234 to Columbus, OH?" “…gulp, uh yes, why?” … “We regret to inform you Ms. Bassett that……” “” "…we regret to inform you,…that he left his computer on the plane." WHAT? A computer? Thanks for scaring me half to death. Ah, you got to love Continental. post script...the computer was in fact left, but subsequently retrieved. No harm, no foul.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
MyMac is Back
MyMac is back...
In the fall of 1984 I returned home one day to discover that something was different. Different in such a way as to believe that maybe things would never be the same again. There was something in the air; a kind of force pulling me. As I made my way up the stairs I could feel the force grower stronger and stronger. Dad was home which was odd. This palpable feeling led me to his office (my old room for the record). I was about to behold the mecca of gifts my father had bought for himself for just shy of $2,500 plus tax. Yes, you heard me right, $2,500…plus tax. Who was this person in my dad’s chair and what was going on? I was the baby of 7 kids, and I was on the verge of leaving home…and Dad could see it coming. It was his turn. His turn to get something he had only dreamed about. The force was drawing me to a light tan, sort of boxy little thing on his desk. Just below God and family my father had found the next love of his life, a computer called ‘Macintosh.’ He had bought a computer, but he found a friend.
The Macintosh was designed to achieve adequate graphics performance at a price accessible to the middle class consumer. Dad rarely bought anything so impulsive, but it was in fact his true medium from that day forward. The centerpiece of the machine was an 8 MHz Motorola 68000 connected to a 128 KB DRAM by a 16-bit data bus. The built-in display was a very sharp one-bit black-and-white, 9-inch CRT with a resolution of 512x342 pixels. It was amazing. Unlike the Apple II computers I used at school, this baby had something called a mouse that moved as you desired by just moving your hand around. Incredible. You could draw things on the computer and then print them. Wow.
That very day a flame started to grow within me that has never gone completely out. I worked that summer for my mission, but I had it in my mind that one day I would own one of those babies. It took a few years and small loan, but I did it. I bought a Macintosh SE from the BYU Bookstore and I knew life would always be wonderful. I loved that computer and paid for most of it by making a Physical Science Study Guide with its technology. I wanted to make a living using this computer. I wanted to be like Dad. I made lists, presentations, papers with cool fonts. I learned how to make labels for my floppy disks. I had arrived. I had the tool of the century and it was mine.
Then came the reality of life. Stephanie and I found ourselves in California with a new job and a few month old little son. Life was busy and distractions became a part of life. The one distraction was the $2,000 debt I/we had accumulated to get out of school. So during a family counsel it was determined that we had to sell the beloved Macintosh in order to get out from the chains of debt. I knew when I gave it over to my buddy at Frito Lay I may never own a Mac again.
Well, last night I reversed the hands of time and I took the ~$2,000 I recouped 18 years ago and invested anew in a Macintosh (now iMac – appropriately named). Before I pressed “are you sure you want to buy this” button I looked over at my ever-supportive wife and asked one last time. Is this a mistake? She could see the yearning in my eyes over the long years of waiting. She did what every supportive wife would do, she gave me her nod of approval. Like Mom had done 24 years ago, she set aside judgment and reason and she supported her husband and his silly fetish.
Let the cyber bells ring out and let the video pundits rejoice…I am back baby, and I hope to never return again. To you Mac owners out there, whether new or loyalists, please welcome me back to your fold. You are in fact my people.
Humbly submitted,
Sid the Mac owner…again.
In the fall of 1984 I returned home one day to discover that something was different. Different in such a way as to believe that maybe things would never be the same again. There was something in the air; a kind of force pulling me. As I made my way up the stairs I could feel the force grower stronger and stronger. Dad was home which was odd. This palpable feeling led me to his office (my old room for the record). I was about to behold the mecca of gifts my father had bought for himself for just shy of $2,500 plus tax. Yes, you heard me right, $2,500…plus tax. Who was this person in my dad’s chair and what was going on? I was the baby of 7 kids, and I was on the verge of leaving home…and Dad could see it coming. It was his turn. His turn to get something he had only dreamed about. The force was drawing me to a light tan, sort of boxy little thing on his desk. Just below God and family my father had found the next love of his life, a computer called ‘Macintosh.’ He had bought a computer, but he found a friend.
The Macintosh was designed to achieve adequate graphics performance at a price accessible to the middle class consumer. Dad rarely bought anything so impulsive, but it was in fact his true medium from that day forward. The centerpiece of the machine was an 8 MHz Motorola 68000 connected to a 128 KB DRAM by a 16-bit data bus. The built-in display was a very sharp one-bit black-and-white, 9-inch CRT with a resolution of 512x342 pixels. It was amazing. Unlike the Apple II computers I used at school, this baby had something called a mouse that moved as you desired by just moving your hand around. Incredible. You could draw things on the computer and then print them. Wow.
That very day a flame started to grow within me that has never gone completely out. I worked that summer for my mission, but I had it in my mind that one day I would own one of those babies. It took a few years and small loan, but I did it. I bought a Macintosh SE from the BYU Bookstore and I knew life would always be wonderful. I loved that computer and paid for most of it by making a Physical Science Study Guide with its technology. I wanted to make a living using this computer. I wanted to be like Dad. I made lists, presentations, papers with cool fonts. I learned how to make labels for my floppy disks. I had arrived. I had the tool of the century and it was mine.
Then came the reality of life. Stephanie and I found ourselves in California with a new job and a few month old little son. Life was busy and distractions became a part of life. The one distraction was the $2,000 debt I/we had accumulated to get out of school. So during a family counsel it was determined that we had to sell the beloved Macintosh in order to get out from the chains of debt. I knew when I gave it over to my buddy at Frito Lay I may never own a Mac again.
Well, last night I reversed the hands of time and I took the ~$2,000 I recouped 18 years ago and invested anew in a Macintosh (now iMac – appropriately named). Before I pressed “are you sure you want to buy this” button I looked over at my ever-supportive wife and asked one last time. Is this a mistake? She could see the yearning in my eyes over the long years of waiting. She did what every supportive wife would do, she gave me her nod of approval. Like Mom had done 24 years ago, she set aside judgment and reason and she supported her husband and his silly fetish.
Let the cyber bells ring out and let the video pundits rejoice…I am back baby, and I hope to never return again. To you Mac owners out there, whether new or loyalists, please welcome me back to your fold. You are in fact my people.
Humbly submitted,
Sid the Mac owner…again.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Beggars really can be choosy!
So here is my NYC experience of the week. I was still coming down from the spiritual high of stake conference when I decided it was time for me to start giving back to the city of NYC as I feel I have taken more than I have given (not the side of the ledger you want to reside). So, as I walked to work I decided that I would try to do something everyday to give back a little. Many of my days I just pick up some paper or help someone who seems to be in need. This past week I decided to start giving a little something to a couple of beggars in the street. I know, I know, this isn’t necessarily the right thing to do, but it just felt right that week. Whether it was for me or the person to whom I would share some money I’m not yet certain. So I gave some money to a guy on 5th Ave, and then as I neared my office I noticed a man who I had seen many times sitting there in a vegetation state -- so I decided he would be my next target. I decided instead of money I would give him a bagel; so I bought the bagel and dropped it off by his feet and turned and proceeded to work. The next day I started thinking about that man and whether I should make a daily habit of this or not. I decided I couldn’t do it everyday … or could I …hm. I’m ashamed to admit that I took the longer route to my office with the thought that if I didn’t see him, I wouldn’t feel the need to start making this a habit (out of sight out of mind). Well, as I crossed Park Ave and strarted up the stairs to work, I glanced over and sure enough, there he was. I turned around and decided to buy him something else to eat. This time I bought him a large muffin as I thought it might be easier on his teeth (they didn’t look very strong). So as I went to drop the muffin off by his feet, he broke from his vegetated state and demanded I take back the food as he didn’t want or couldn’t eat such food. Startled by both his negative reaction and the number of eyes that were now centered on me, I struggled with the right thing to say. So, I leaned toward him and said that today I had given him a muffin that might taste better. He then indignantly demanded that I ask him what he wanted to eat. “I’m sorry” I said quietly, “um, what would you like to eat?” I asked. Now people were almost stopped to observe my awkwardness and intent to hear the response from the old guy they had also probably observed over the years. He clearly demanded, “I want a sandwich and hot chocolate!” Oh, I see. Sobbing buckets of tears, I almost thought of asking him what type of bread he may want on that sandwich, but I let it alone. He handed my muffin back to me in the brown bag and dismissed me with his eyes. The world started revolving again and I took the bagel and walked puzzled back to work, I think a little wiser. Now that was interesting. I sat in my room, thought about the reaction from the man, and then ate the muffin – which was wonderful by the way. Not sure I will try that one again. I think I will take a different approach. I’ll let you know at some point what that may be.
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