RESPECTX 2PRG formatted GEOS file V1.0 Star NB-15ևևȘe`EX 1L DUAL TOP) [KBLASTER'S CONVERTER V2.5 [ +Star NB-15+ V  GEOWRITE X ? '$ $$$$4$$$4$$$$$$<Write Image V2.1Red StormgeoWrite V1.1 This file was created with Wrong is Write. Written by Joe Buckley.|@0 @I DON'T GET NO RESPECT or Rodney Dangerfield Computing Dan Cunningham (Mad Dog35 on Q-Link)  @0 I used to be a very normal individual. I was in the mainstream of life with a good job and a wonderful family. Then one day I was standing around watching my brother clean out an old room at his home when he shoved a cardboard box in my arms. "Take this home." He said, "Maybe the kids can use it". The box was stuffed with what appeared to be various electronic equipment. It was a computer. I had been intimidated by these gadgets: both at work and conversing with my computing friends, but I took it home, hooked it up, and began to take my first baby steps into the age of data communications. It took only a few nanoseconds before I was hooked; hopelessly hooked. I had entered the world of high tech, and had done it for free! (How pleasing to my Scottish soul!) For the first few months, my children were not permitted to touch this icon of the future, a Commodore 64. My brother had included some software with the 64, but I was soon ready to broaden my horizons. I drove across town to Vince's Computer World to have a look at the possibilities now open to me. Trembling with excitement, I opened the heavy glass front door. Striding across the thin blue carpet I noticed a small number of new computers on display. They were different than my computer; the keyboard was separate from the computer itself. The biggest surprise, however, was the price. $1,200, $1500, $1295. Wow! These must be very fancy computers. "Can I help you find something?" a lovely young lady asked. I wondered if this was Vince's wife. Or daughter. I dared not ask. "I am looking for software," I said timidly. "Right over here," she purred. "Anything in particular you are looking for?" "I dunno," I said, overwhelmed by it all, "I guess I'll just look." As she hurried away to greet a more affluent-looking customer, I scanned the shelves. Word Perfect, DBase, ProComm; these were certainly beyond my computing experience. And the prices! I couldn't believe it; even games were over $40!. I pulled out my wallet and counted out all of my $18. "If you have any questions, just let me know," said Vince's wife, or girlfriend, as I fumbled to put my money away quickly. I must have looked startled as I blurted out, "What can you recommend for a Commodore 64?" The lovely young thing smiled and supressed a low laugh. "I'm afraid we don't have anything for your Commodore, honey. Try the toy store at the mall." I tried to regain my composure and pretend to look around before leaving. I did manage a weak, "thank you," or, "of course." Actually, I don't remember. I was hoping that my face was not visibly red, as I seemed to have committed a computing faux pas. Doing my best to appear wise and computer-literate, I examined the merchandise slowly, making my way to the door. "I should have said the Commodore stuff was for my kids!" I said to myself. Vince's girl was talking to a male salesman now near the counter. I couldn't hear what they were saying until he exclaimed, "Can't make any money on those things. That technology is 8 years old!" I did take the girl's advice, however. It's hard to imagine such a poised and pretty lady not knowing what she was talking about. I stopped in the mall on the way home. I had never been in the Toys'R'Us store, but I imagined that this was what Vince's sister was talking about. I walked a long aisle with hundreds of Nintendo games, magazines, and accessories filling the racks. After a break in the racks there was Turbo-Graphix, and machines running demos of the games. I figured maybe Vince should set his wife straight. Nothing here. I wandered into the next aisle and caught the attention of a freckled young girl with a Toys'R'Us badge pinned to her blouse. In a low confidential voice I asked if she knew of any Commodore software. She squinted and then turned quickly. "Hey, Jeff!" she bellowed, much to my dismay. "Do we have any Commodore stuff left? This guy is interested." "For my kids." I quickly interjected, so that Jeff and Freckles could both hear me. Jeff directed me to a small rack containing clearance merchandise. "If we got any, it's here, sir. Not too many people play games on the 64 any more. Nintendo's the thing." @0 ~ I thanked him and began to rummage through the stuff. Atari, Apple II, oh yes, C64. I located a copy of Geos, Word Writer, and a few games; all of them marked down with red stickers, some were opened. I purchased a few items and slunk from the store. Over the ensuing weeks I began to absorb all that I could about the lowly 64. I learned how to use my productivity software. I bought a ram expander, a 24-pin printer, and a modem. I signed on to Q-Link and began to live there. Perhaps I made a mistake trying to interject my C64 enthusiasm into the workplace. At any rate, we were discussing our next training session and I pulled out the letter-sized poster I had designed for distribution. Copies were passed among the committee. Heads nod, and most everyone likes the results. "What kind of computer do you have, Cunningham?" someone asked. "Uhhh.... it's an older one," I replied. Presley piped up, "I bought a 386 a month ago, 1 meg ram, VGA monitor, 80 meg hard drive, 40 MHZ; wow it's nice! "What kind do you have, Cunningham?" Well, I'm trapped!. I draw my hand across my mouth and croak, "Commodore 64." "Ha!" exc@0 Well, I'm trapped!. I draw my hand across my mouth and croak, "Commodore 64." "Ha!" exclaims Muncey. "that's a game machine! "I just bought a sound card for my PC! Less than $200! Whatta deal!" "Yeah, did you see that ad in the paper," adds Presley, "a 486 set up for $1200!" @0 Fortunately, the meeting soon adjourned. Presley nudged up against me on the way out. "How did you get those large letters and pictures to print out on the page in this poster?" Priestly inquired at nearly a whisper. I gave a quick explanation before Presley broke in to tell me about the "awesome" games he had been playing on his power machine. After my night class a few evenings later, I struck up a conversation with a classmate about our composition assignment . The subject turned to computers and was I ever excited. Though immersed in 64 computing, I had not a living soul with which to talk, save online. When asked what kind of computer I'm using, I blurt out, "A Commodore 64!". At that moment I am suddenly aware that my classmate is looking through me. I don't exist! He picks up his books and begins walking out, stopping to speak to another night student before disappearing into the hall. I was beginning to become a bit removed, feeling isolated. I resolved that the next time I was slighted when talking computers, I would calmly explain how the 64 was an incredibly cost efficient computer. I would detail how that it was perfectly adequate for virtually every home use and many in the workplace, at a price ridiculously lower than current (and soon also to be obsolete) clones. It was the computer of the people! You didn't need an expensive graphics card to get color, or an overpriced sound card for audio. Computing people of the world, unite! Cast of those clones! You have nothing to save but your money! But I feared no one would listen. I had good reason to doubt. I attended a work meeting at a local hotel that summer. We broke for lunch and the discussion turned to lans, dos versions, and the newest technology. Fred, who was in charge of the computer system at work, seemed the authority on the subject, and everyone defered to his opinion. When telecommunication services were mentioned I saw my chance to jump in and began to babble about Q-Link and the C-64. Noticing a queer look on a number of faces, I realized that I was talking very fast and frantic, so I stopped for a moment. There was silence. A strained and uneasy feeling had become evident. Fred was looking down at his steak, plying it with his fork. "This meat is not done," he muttered, then called for the waiter. The rest of our number, having done more eating than talking, looked over the desert menu and discussed the merits of the Black Forest Cake as opposed to the Fudgecake. I'm not sure how I forgot it. Before ever knowing what the letters DOS stood for, I had been in a small computer shop with a friend to buy a game. As I remembered, this guy had disks for the 64 and Apple at $3 a disk. I realize now that it must be public domain. The price was definitely within my grasp, and besides, maybe the guy would talk turkey, er, C64's with me. I drove to the street where I remembered the shop and miraculously it was still there. "BERT'S BARGAIN COMPUTERS" announced a handmade cardboard sign standing in the window. There were stickers on the windows from various electronic manufacturers and a sign trumpeting video rentals. Hh, yes! And VCR repairs. Despite the 85 degree heat, the door was standing open. Oscillating fans droned from various points in the "showroom" creating some small relief from the swelter. Displayed on mismatched folding tables were numerous older MS-DOS machines, all of them with a thick layer of dust that betrayed the fingerprints of every customer who had pawed them. I was encouraged to see a TI99 in the bunch with a "MAKE AN OFFER" sign on it. As I had remembered there was a large bin containing computer disks on one wall. I moved quickly to the bin and shuffled through the disks. All of them had collected dust and none of them seemed to be for the 64. I fingered through the MS-DOS disks, moved on to the MACIntosh stuff, and gave up after looking through the used commercial software. Bert never offered to help, or started a conversation. He remained behind his desk watching an unidentified situation comedy on a small black and white TV. I walked over to the counter and cleared my throat. Bert looked up, pulled the cigar from his mouth and spoke. @0 @0 ~ "Need sumpthin?" I asked about the Commie software. "Ain't got it." he said turning back to the TV. "I used 'em all for blank discs and copied over the little beggars. I got Nintendo games. Good price." No thanks! One of my favorite times is when we have guests over to our house. After dinner I will slyly maneuver the husband down to my computing lair. I'll show him the high quality text and graphic printouts I have pinned on the wall. Then we explore the wonders of Club Caribe and Super Q on Q-Link. But it never really sinks in. You simply MUST have a 40 MHZ machine, 80 meg hard drive, and a price tag of $1000+ to write a letter or play a game. Microsoft has a full-nelson on the minds and hearts of our computing friends. And maybe our friends like it that way. I was "given" an Amiga 1000 a while back (net cost $35) and have found myself spending some hours away from my beloved 64. It could be that in the end, I too, will weaken and be seduced into being unfaithful. Perish the thought!