I’ve just powered down the machine pictured to the left here. I’m trying to remember how old it is … I’m guessing around twelve years. It was purchased to replace an old Packard-Bell 486 that we bought with our first credit card, so that will give you some idea. It’s an old machine.

A pentium pro with (I think) about 256 megs of memory, it was running Windows 98 at the time of its last shutdown. It had been a primary desktop machine for me for years—at the time the only computer in the house. Then I purchased a pIII, and gave this machine to my reluctant wife, who had no use for it and didn’t really see the need.

God, I just realized I used this thing with dial-up.

Anyway, we networked them after we got broadband, which made even this old thing a lot more useful, even for someone who (at the time) didn’t really care much for computers. When it was time to upgrade again, we shuffled computers, and this machine was relegated to the role of a file server, which made sense when we were running a tiny publishing company (one of the last things I did with this machine running was to back up all the old data on it, including the layout files for the books we published).

It kept my own writing, photography, and digital artwork on it for about the past six or seven years, as well as my wife’s, and the work of about a dozen other people I worked with during that time. Looking at it now, it’s funny to think about the personal history that transpired during its use, and how this machine served as a conduit for so much communication and so much personal change.

The way I use computers now is fundamentally different—they’ve become an integral part of my life, and ubiquitous in general. They were already becoming somewhat mainstream the first time I powered this thing on, but they’re as commonplace and general now as cars or electricity.

I don’t know how many power outages this thing suffered, or how many years it ran without a proper surge protector, but the hardware is all original (I added a hard drive for storage sometime around ’97 or ’98) and I never had a problem with it. The only reason I’m transitioning away from it now is because it is over ten years old, and the files we’re working with now are so much larger that it no longer serves efficiently. Kind of amazing that it’s lasted this long, and performed this well. I’m surprised to find myself this reflective about a machine I’ve gotten in the habit of mostly ignoring. It’s outlasted at least two other, younger, computers, including our first web server (retired a couple of years ago).

I don’t know what to do with it next, but I’m open to ideas. For now, I’ll disconnect it and move it to a closet until we finish shuffling work spaces around here (I’m currently sitting at a small white table in the living room). It’d be interesting to put something on this machine that gets accessed fairly regularly to see how long it lasts, though I think I’d be traumatized when it finally did stop working.

…FIRE WEATHER WATCH IN EFFECT FROM WEDNESDAY MORNING THROUGH WEDNESDAY EVENING FOR MUCH OF MARYLAND WEST OF THE BAY AND EAST OF THE ALLEGHENY FRONT…NORTHERN VIRGINIA…EASTERN WEST VIRGINIA…AND THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA DUE TO STRONG WINDS…LOW RELATIVE HUMIDITY…AND DRY GROUND…

Just got the above alert from my weather service. About ten minutes before the weather started to turn over (the wind started keening and bitching around the apartment building and rattling the windows, looking for bigger holes to pour through). A car alarm in the parking lot below started going off—obnoxiously loud, we should be allowed to shoot holes in cars that wake us up at night—and some kind of engine somewhere kicked on with a low moan that made me think the dead were finally on the rise. Total horror movie growl, dry and disused protest from a throat full of dirt. Twice. It was pretty awesome, after I got over the “holy shit” of the first initial seconds. Whoever was responsible for the noise finally got it right and the engine turned over—a motorcycle, probably a Harley—and faded out as it drove off. I’d hate to be on a bike with the wind out there right now.

The weather’s been hot, for this time of year. In the mid 80s yesterday (28, 29C), which means it’s been about 86 or 87 in the apartment at times (we’re on a higher floor, heat rises, math). Back to the 50s (10-12C), then cooler in the next few days. Just a matter of time before the heat’s back. I feel like I got ripped off this year—winter was brief and warm.

I had intended to write a bit about the process I’m going through with my current most active—the novel I’m calling “Ice Fishing” right now—but it’s like 6:20 AM and I should think about getting to bed. Maybe tomorrow night.

I’m trying to get a little more civil with the sleeping schedule, too, but the heat gives me a good reason to put it off. I’ve always hated sleeping when it’s warm indoors.

The Phantom Limb, as I’ve begun referring to my hand, is (I think) starting to recover. Either that or I’m getting used to having no feeling in it. Ice seems to help (well, cold pack) and I’m getting to rely on wrapping the elbow pretty tightly when it’s really bothering me. I’ve become a bit of an expert in wrapping my left elbow with an ace bandage, which is tricky if you a) can only use your right hand and b) have to keep the elbow straight. Looks pretty butch, too.