I'm sitting here, drugged to the gills on this uber potent anti-nausea medication my doctor gave me the other day, but I'm writing a post anyway. It's because I think I had an idea.
Actually, it isn't so much that I think I had an idea: I did have an idea. However, I don't know if it's a good idea or not, and I'm certainly in no state to go around judging, so I thought I'd dump it on your doorstep and run away.
As my move to Connecticut draws closer, I've been thinking a lot about life. You get irritatingly introspective at the points in your life when you know you're making a big change. You can't do anything to stop it, although you'd gladly stop the onslaught of personal evaluation with a nice sharp kick to the groin if you could. Or, if mace worked, you could use that, too.
I've noticed that I'm really painting a pretty picture of my past as I dwell on it. Take my childhood for example - in my mind, I've added "hungry," "poor," "confused," and "lonely" together, and somehow come out with "happiness." I don't know how that works, but I know that I sure would like to get my hands on whatever it is that my brain's been smoking.
I then started thinking about how common it is to romanticize the past. It's something that we all think about from time to time, but it's been, at least for me, one of those very transient thoughts that I disregard almost as quickly as it arrives. Thinking long and hard about nostalgia might be fun for a bunch of high brow intellectuals, but it isn't exactly going to put dinner on the Blyth table, if you know what I mean.
That's when I had my idea.
This is the first installment of a comic series that I'm going to call "Back in the Day." I'm taking an item from the past that people have romanticized to the point that it's nostalgically bulletproof. I don't know exactly what I mean by the phrase "nostalgically bulletproof," but that's something you're going to have to take up directly with my brain. I'm just the hands here, typing, delivering whatever messages are sent down the arms from the guy in charge.
So, this first bit of "Back in the Day" deals with something that computer geeks the world over have romanticized the hell out of: The golden era of computing. That time when 8-bit processors chunked text-mode graphics on the screen, and also when this little company called "Apple," now known best as the world's largest non-profit organization, was about to bring out its IBM killer called the "Macintosh."
I was reading some of the articles up on folklore.org on the history of Apple. There are some incredible entries in there by Andy Hertzfeld, one of the guys who was there "back when," and the picture he paints of Apple...
...well, I don't think that working for Steve Jobs "back in the day" was probably all that great.
Also note that, as is the case with today's comic, "Back in the Day" will often touch on the experiences that we tend to romanticize the most: The ones we didn't have. For example, at the time that the activities depicted in this comic were taking place, I was in kindergarten, picking my nose and wiping it on the girls I thought were cute. Either that or emptying the pencil shavings from the sharpener and dumping them in Patrick Sherman's hair while we played Dukes of Hazzard, which really confused him since we were supposed to be "buds," and he was never able to provide himself an answer to the question, "Rory: Friend or foe?" as a result. Point being, I was nowhere near Cupertino at the time, and if I had been, I would have been at the Toys R Us bar, slamming back glasses of milk and challenging the other kids to thumb wars.
Finally, lest I should be called an Apple-hater for all this, I'd like it to be known that I bought another Mac this past week, so it's not like I don't appreciate all the hard work these people have done. I just think that the company, and particularly its history, have been ever so slightly romanticized over the years...