Regarding computers, Bob’s still a stick-in-the-mud

Regarding computers, Bob's still a stick-in-the-mud By Bob Karolevitz There's an intruder in our house.

It's called a computer.

Daughter Jill brought it because she was concerned that her parents were a couple of sticks-in-the-mud. She wanted us to be ready for the new millennium, to click in with the rest of the world.

Well, she's got a disciple. Phyllis is now clicking and keyboarding while I strive to maintain our stick-in-the-mud status.

Jill didn't provide us with a modem, though. She wanted us to wean our way into computerland before we got carried away with the Internet or designing our own web page.

"Ease into it," she said. "Before long it'll be second nature for you."

Ha! I've worked too hard developing my reputation as a dinosaur to be sweet-talked into becoming another mouse jockey. She'll have to drag me kicking and screaming into Cyberville.

If I succumbed, I'd have to forego my membership in the National Lead Pencil Club. And I'd have to eat crow at the newspaper office where they laughingly accept my typewritten copy as if it were enscribed on papyrus.

Frankly, it's not easy to teach an old dog new tricks, especially if the dog isn't cooperating.

Admittedly, I made the transition from crystal set to Crosley, from the static of radio to the blurred picture of television. We've even got a VCR, but a computer is something else again.

I've heard all the arguments. A computer is your window to all of the world's knowledge. It has spell-check. You can insert words and shift paragraphs with ease. By e-mail you are in instantaneous contact with other e-mailers.

That's all well and good, but I learned to spell from the good Benedictine Sisters; my library of an old-fashioned thing called books has proved adequate; and I don't want to be in instantaneous contact with anybody except Phyllis.

Heck, I'm not even sure we made the right move when we switched from horses to autos. At least we weren't dependent on OPEC for oats.

But I guess I have to face reality. There's now a computer in our house, and my wife sits in front of the monitor with our new toy, actually enjoying it.

Me? I even try to avoid the room they're in. Like a disease, it might be catching, and I'm doing everything I can to keep from being exposed. I'd even try vaccination, if there is such a thing.

When you've been anti-computer as long and as vocally as I have, you've got to keep up the fight. On the other hand, if we finally get a modem, I think would be an easy, recognizable address. Don't you?

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