RAM

Some people worked on cars with their dad's and some played catch, but with my dad it was building computers. He would never buy a pre-built one from the store. Whenever he had a problem or needed to fix something he would just open it up and fix it himself. So when I wanted my first PC he took me to the store and bought me all the parts and we built it ourselves. This was before comp USA, Best Buy, and Fry's mind you. He actually had to take me downtown to an industrial area where a parts supplier was so we could get all the components. I remeber installing DOS with those giant floppy disks, I remember one birthday when he got me a cd-rom, this was before they became a necessity, and no one in the room know why I was so excited except for him. I remember being so excited when I upgraded my hard drive for the first time because I kept having to uninstall and reinstall games just to have enough room. He bought me one that was 100 megabytes!

The reason I'm getting so nostalgic all the sudden is because my computer died this afternoon. If my dad hadn't taught me all of this I would have been helpless and this blog probably wouldn't have been written. But more that that, every time I open up a computer I always get this rush of memories. The first computer we built, the time he helped me play my first game over a network (doom), the time we drove down to an ISP in order to get set up to use the "Internet." It's nice to have a practical set of skills that help me in everyday life, but that's nothing compared to being able to have such good memories.


Good Times!