Chapter January 3rd, 1983

It’swonderful to be writing my memoirs, undisturbed and on a PC!

It’s an IBM5150 with a green screen and a portal for a 5.25-inch floppy disk.

It’s agoddamned dinosaur compared to the stuff of the future, but to me it’s a littlepiece of heaven on earth.

As adults we tendto take so much for granted, almost forgetting about the restrictions we oncehad to experience as children. Whether it was at home or at school, we wereprisoners of society. We were constantly told that we stayed in the land of thefree and the brave.

Free?

How can youcall it freedom when you are constantly told when and what to eat and drink –or what not to eat or drink; when and where to go – or not go; who to befriend- or not befriend. And worst of all – the goddamned curfews. Didn’t it alwaysseem that the parties were just starting to get…interesting at the point whereyou had to leave?

Of course, itwas all done out of love – for our benefit, protection and guidance, so that wecould become cloned into upstanding citizens capable of implementing those verysame restrictions on future generations.

I’m justthrilled that my restrictions of using a pen or a typewriter to record mymemoirs have passed forever.

The next timeI return to the past I’ll be sure to target a time when the world had becomemore computer-familiar.

Last month,instead of a Person of the Year, Time Magazine selected The Computer as Machineof the Year!

I mustremember to constantly keep, and update, a record of my current accesspasswords. I’ll make a point of taping them in an envelope to the bottom of mydesk.

The same goesfor the key and/or combination of my safe; as well as my banking accounts.

I don’t wantto return to the past once more only to discover that I don’t have access to myassets and, especially, my diaries.