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Electronic Escape
I was already on my way to becoming a full-on computer geek. I played with the second hand castoffs of richer people, like an old Commodore VIC-20 (predecessor to the more famous 64). I got special access to the few Apple II machines in the school district, both because I was put in accelerated classes for the gifted and bored, and because I was such an instigator of contention in junior high home room periods that the establishment assigned me instead to computer catalog the entire school library.
When I got to play with a 128K Macintosh I completely freaked out that I could doodle and scribble and print my doodles and scribbles out afterward. When I was old enough to type I got hooked up with journalism classes and access to a laser printer. I was blown away that I could print out columns of perfect looking text and wax them up on pasteboards for mass duplication at the newspaper.
My mom bought me an Apple IIGS that we couldn't really afford, but I was pretty sure I'd generate revenue with it somehow. My first solo project was a monthly newsletter about the Apple IIGS called the Passport House Letter. I imagined I'd start publishing and distributing software through my readership. There wasn't much tech to report on in Montana, so I had to learn how to use computer networks to research things people would want to read about.
I got started with Fidonet, and when regular people could get access to the Internet, I moved on up to that deluxe apartment in the sky. My first experiences with the Internet predated the web. The first time I downloaded the fledgeling Mosaic web browser and hit NASA's website in severe slow motion in 1992, I figured something would have to change to get this web thing off the ground. I was happier with Gopher and Archie and other Internet tools that could actually do something useful.
The PHL had subscribers in five countries and was bringing in checks from all over the US, but my printer jacked up printing costs so high I had to take my business to the newspaper. The owner of the print shop, which was expanding into a religious bookstore, sued me and I ended up in court. I think I mostly won because I knew enough to call the judge Your Honor rather than Sir, which is the best the printer could do. I was a little disgusted with the very righteous printer for trying to cheat me, but more so that he was trying run his print business on a PC instead of a Mac, which seemed pretty much like heresy.
When the newspaper got too expensive for me, I started sneaking my tabloid master pages into the Bureau of Land Management offices at night, and printing my newsletter on their large format copier on the sly. I can say that now because the statute of limitations has run out, and there's no proof anywhere. Just in case, don't spread that around.
Even with my new government sponsorship, I ended up unable to cover my bills and had to quit publishing my thing and get a real job. Working in a restaurant is never rewarded by fan mail from happy customers though, particularly if your contribution is cleaning shrimp or frying onion rings.
Part III > Real world escape
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