COMPUTER 301
/I decided my poem should be in an interactive rather than a display module. No problem. With my experience I could probably copy it from one to the other. So I tried but it didn't happen. I tried again, nothing. I knew I could copy it from "Word" so I went back there. Ctrl C, Ctrl V, nothing. Did I do that right? Again Ctrl C, Ctrl V and for some unknown reason the bottom of my poem appeared at the top of the screen. As I dragged the elevator up to bring my poem down, it quickly became apparent I again had more than one copy; many more in fact.
No problem. I knew how to delete. In a moment of fatigue while selecting lines during computer 101, I had accidentally drawn the mouse arrow below the text box and discovered simultaneous scrolling and highlighting. In an instant my screen became a blue strobe light until all extraneous copies of my poem were selected. Ctrl X, gone. Next the reformatting which was kind of boring the second time around. When I finished formatting I clicked save and close....and got an error message.
I scrolled back to the beginning to see the harsh banner informing me my url identifier was more than the allotted 158 characters. In the space where I should have entered a title was the first line of my poem, "O Lord what fools..." It was then I remembered reading somewhere in my "dummies" book that if I didn't enter a title the computer would.
No problem. I knew how to delete; just hold down the backspace key. I held it down and could see immediately the computer did not just enter the first line of my poem. Eventually, "...God's glory" the last line appeared.... followed by "O Lord what fools..." This happened over and over and over again. The computer was playing with my emotions. I had to change fingers every 5 minutes. Frankly I became tired of seeing "God's Glory..." and being reminded I'm a fool.
I had plenty of time to figure out that my every last attempt to copy had been successfully stored on the clipboard and eventually pasted into my editor. As punishment for not entering a title the computer used every copy I had made and I was deleting them all, one line at a time.
I'd probably been deleting for 45 minutes or so when mom inquired about breakfast. I lied. I told her I'd be finished in a few minutes but I had no idea. I was thinking I could die here. I even had a vision of a marker, a hand with a bent and twisted middle digit sticking up above the others. Under it was my epitaph.
Whose life did flee
While holding down
The backspace key.
I trust you can imagine my relief when that backspace bar finally hit the wall. I didn't even slow down. At the same time I felt sad. All this valuable experience and no more copying and pasting in sight. Building is sometimes like that. By the time you figure out how to do it, the job is finished. I am hoping this does not have to be the epitaph of humanity.
