Computer Silence: How I Dread It

For the next five days, I will be forced to live without my laptop. It is an IBM (Lenovo) ThinkPad, machine type 2687 for those of you who care about such things, and I love it to death. My wife is a Mac devotee — a Maccabee is the term of affection in our home. I am perhaps less hip but at least equally as happy with my IBM devotion.

But now: oh, horror. My screen has gone dark, requiring that I send my lovely black lifeline back to its maker for repair. I will be without it for a few days. Most of this time, I will be traveling — to the Midwest for a lecture, and then to Disney World with my daughter — which will make the laptop’s absence particularly noticeable. I must say, I dread living without my computer for even five days. I did not realize how completely integrated my life and my computer had become until I had to prepare for life without it.

There may still be an occasional blog post or three turning up in my name during this absence. That is the beauty of memory — the electronic kind, at least. I will bank a few items, and someone else will post them, and they will make it look as though I am not thoroughly disconnected from the world. But in fact I will be.