LOOK OUT FOR THE NEANDERTHAL WHO PREYS ON THE COMPUTER-LITERATE!
THE HUMAN RACE
AND NOW A WORD FROM MISTER OBSOLETE
Don’t tell me that I’m getting old or
that life has past me by. Every morning
as I shave in front of the mirror I’m
reminded of it. So when I brought a
floppy disk into Fry’s Electronics
in Manhattan Beach wondering if I
could buy a new computer that would
still take my 3.5 inch square disks,
a nerdy little twerp tinkering with
an expensive video screen gave me an
answer without even looking my way:
“Obsolete!” I wondered if he was
referring to me or the antiquated blue
disk I had brought from my home office.
As I left the bustling computer store I
realized how ironic the encounter was.
That preoccupied munchkin was correct on both
counts. I’ve been obsolete since the days
of Buck Rogers, Betty Grable and The Shadow.
I use my antiquated computer as a typewriter.
I am obviously a rookie on the Internet.
The only thing I twitter is my nose. If I
can’t find truth on the streets or on the
phone, I’ll go to a forgotten haunt known as
the Library. I like being labeled passe’.
I like being a prehistoric carnivore lost
in a technological world that thrives on
computerization. So I don’t need a compass to
find humanity, philosophy, ignorance and pomposity.
I’m aggravated not intimidated by today’s
highbrow-technics where the computer-literate
swarm. I’ll survive without Google because
I know where the sun rises, truth whispers, the
north star glows, kind breezes blow, and
visions in string bikinis sashay to and fro.
– Boots LeBaron –