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thanks for all you are doing u r a pretty neat guy
Yes, my old man's well on his way to cultivating the online presence of a 14-year-old girl. OK, he didn't add ":) :) :)", and he used the shorthand not because he was hammering away at 20 simultaneous AIM connections but because he's currently clocking at around 5 WPM, and was losing patience. (It's still funny to think that this guy was an ace businessman, in his day. He is a living link to a time when the only people in the business world who knew how to type were the secretaries. Goodness.)
That said, I did hook him up with an AIM account, and showed him how to work iChat. Who knows.
This wasn't the original plan; I started out the Great Hook Up Dad's Machine Project expecting that I'd show him how to use Netscape Navigator on the old PowerMac 6100 that he picked up second-hand some four years ago and hadn't touched since. Well. JohnK@Arcus put many hours of work into making that machine all happy and Internet-ready, but... the world no longer caters to Netscape 3 running on a 60 MHz machine with 24 MB RAM. Half the links followed from Google News showed up as garbage, and the waiting, ohhh, the waiting. Nobody was really very impressed.
This is when Ricky came up with a good idea: why not loan my iBook to my parents for the time being? Brilliant. An hour later, I had firewired all my old junk onto the TiBook and set my dad up with a login. An hour after that, and he'd had the whole tour, inlcuding the aforementioned letter exchange, and was very happy. SO, THEN: Is Mac OS X easy enough that I could teach it to my grandmother? Well, I don't have any of those, BUT my dad is the SAME AGE as MANY GRANDMOTHERS and just as jittery around computers as the stereotype demands, so I will say AYE.
Other than this flash of insight, Ricky has been a terror, talking nonstop and loudly all day long, and I would have bolted had not it started to snow sideways. Cranky as the weather made me, I am jealous of my Boston-area friends who got thunder and lightning with their snowstorm. (Heh heh, I know this because I saw three simultaneous weblog entries about it. Good job.)
Dunno what I'll do after it clears up. I don't want to hang out in this house any more, and I feel antsy about not getting work done, but I told at least one person that I'd be in W-ville for a Yankee swap on Sunday. I have given some thought to driving south tomorrow and then back up here just for the swap. What a mess.
Found somewhere on Usenet:
The thermometer on my wristwatch, which always reported a temperature of
"82 degrees", sprung a leak. I was wondering why my sleeve smelled of
turpentine.