A Technophobic Confession :: Personal Narrative Computers Papers

A Technophobic Confession I am a technophobe. There, I admitted it. The Unabomber, George Orwell, my hardheaded grandfather and I are all members of the equivalent fraternity. I am in the closet no longer. Just because I dont blow up buildings doesnt mean Im not afraid of the unrelenting incursion of technology. I went to highschool school in a small townsfolk in rural Illinois, and until the age of sixteen, I was able to survive without miserable a calculator. In fact, the only one I remember beholding on a regular basis was the one in the nook of the public library. Up until my junior year in high school, that computer was just about the loneliest thing in the world. Most of the people in town used a computer for one of two things cry processing or playing video games, and anybody who really had any craving to do either of these owned a computer or had door to one at work. The librarians daughter used to set books on pinnacle of that computer when she was sorting them out to be reshelved. I always perspective of the computer as just that, an overglorified bookrack. I laughed to see a tall, precariously balanced pile of books on top of the monitor, which was all but unnoticeable by its dust cover body bag. I laughed because I am a technophobe, and to see it being used in this manner tranquilize me that computers were, quite obviously, a waste of time and money. Then the e-mail pandemic began cropping up in cities across the nation, and it spread quickly. Like all innovations, it ultimately made its way to the Middle West. The outbreak in my hometown started where I least(prenominal) expected it in that eternally slumbering computer sitting underneath the spate of book returns. It happened overnight. The computer was wired to the Internet. The small weekly local melodic theme pushed the Knights of Columbus hall off the front page to run a story about the Information Superhighway. Clouds brooded on the horizon and little child ren tossed uneasily in their sleep. I was good friends with the librarians daughter. We went to the same high school. She was in my circle of friends. We were juniors. She was the first to get an email address.