So, I’d been working on this big problem at my day job for a few days, banging my head against various and sundry keyboards, when I decided to send the code via wires to the large machine in the corner, whereupon it promptly spat out 15 thin pieces of flattened and dried tree innards with various conglomerations of a fused black polymer upon its surface. I grabbed these, trotted off to the throne for some “reading”, and found my bug within a few minutes.

What is it about reading things on paper that makes the experience so different?

I adore reading a newspaper, more for the experience of doing it than for the news itself. The slightly warming, musky scent of the newsprint, the crackle of the paper as you turn the pages, the way your eyes can drift around lazily searching for something to latch onto, the mild frustration at trying to find wherever page “A9″ ran off to — it’s an entire experience. I think for me, who has a very busy schedule most of the time, taking a few minutes to sit down and read an actual, physical paper represents either a) having the time to do so or b) making the time to do so. In college it was a great morning ritual to drink some 9-scoop coffee, read the paper, and wake up slowly. It represented a slower pace.

So, naturally, I haven’t read a physical paper in probably a year, if not longer.

I remember late nights in the Olin computer labs at Luther, listening to the “zzeeeep, zzzeeeeeeep” as ink was whacked onto a long roll, causing it to curl up and over the printer and back onto the floor to fan-fold into a neat stack. Usually this was the code for my talker (a type of chat room) which was about 10,000 lines long and would take quite awhile to print out. But once I had a project in front of me on solid deadtree, finding bugs, doing edits, and generally looking at the flow of the code was much, much easier.

I don’t do much programming on paper anymore, simply for the cost factor and for the way I program which is more interactive — make a change, see if it works, make another change — or because I do more visual programming (buttons, windows, etc.) that don’t show themselves very well in written code. But on occasion, it ends up being a handy tool to pull out of the case, dust off, and give a shot.

This is why I somewhat find the entire blogging phenomenon to be somewhat curious, because the nature of the beast practically prohibits it being printed on any sort of solid medium. (Although you can probably expect Dooce to bring out a book sometime entitled, “Months of Leta: My Child Grows Up in Blogs”.) Millions of wannabe writers out there (myself included) are whacking out entries in full digital format, never to be seen via an ink impression in their entire career.

Mind you, people have forever been reading news and magazine articles online, so it’s not a completely new form of journalism. However, you can just as easily read the Washington Post online as you can on paper, albeit a bit more updated, and yet they have a very healthy circulation of newsprint out there. There are still hundreds if not thousands of girls and boys, young and old, earning a few extra bucks by going around in the wee hours of the morning, flinging rolled-up missiles at doors, windows, and the occasional cat, so it’s clearly a healthy industry.

I wonder, then, would anyone subscribe to a printed-and-delivered “blog newspaper” that comes out daily and simply features syndicated postings from all the best bloggers out there today? It’d be like Ann Landers, but without the moronic questions and syrupy answers.

They might — just for the experience of paper.

Do any of you have a need for 68 CD-ROM drives?

How about 40 or so 3.5″ floppy drives?

28 modem cards? No? Damn.

My poor basement has found itself for the last few months to be the repository of a massive amount of computer equipment as I have gathered it from all corners of the globe, dumped it there, and promptly ignored it while life flew by me in a fit of fury. Two and a half tables of computer parts from the old Hampton Middle School, plus a load of computers from my day job, plus other random parts — all in jumbled piles in the middle room, barely enough space left to sashay by.

Now that my schedule has somewhat cleared up (not by my choosing) and with the Little One on the way, I decided it was high time to really attack the pile and thrash it into submission.

One of the big problems with collecting masses of computers is what to do with all of them. I got them all because the price was right, and parts are parts — they’re always good to have around. It has also been my experience that, unless you have great contacts and/or unlimited amounts of money, for computer collectors to find true treasures, you have to take a lot of trash, too.

And so, I’m left to dig through mountains of computers, monitors, keyboards, mice, cards, accessories, printers, and the like. You also can no longer throw anything with circuit boards or CRTs (picture tubes) in the trash; they figured out that the chemicals in them (like lead and mercury) aren’t terribly friendly to the environment and it gives Mother Nature a rash that, frankly, you don’t want the old girl to have.

The downside to that is that disposal of said nefarious objects usually costs a pretty fair cent at the dump, on the order of $13 per monitor and various other prices for other things. Unless they come with a hidden Benjamin in the disk drive, these things aren’t exactly money-makers.

So, I’m trying an experiment: I’m breaking down all the parts I want to get rid of into plastic, metal, and electronics. The metal I’m going to have my dad haul up to the metal recyclers, the plastic will go in the trash, and the electronics (now much smaller and compact than they were before) will be stockpiled until I find a good way to get rid of them without spending a billion dollars. It will, at any rate, give me much more room.

Some of this stuff will be eBayed, as is proper when there’s some value, but I’m building up a good stockpile first before starting into that as, once you do, it’s a constant workload to get done and shipped and out the door. eBay can be profitable but, like whoring, you have to strap on the fishnets and slap the stilettos up and down the street a few times before getting any cash.

Despite all the work involved, I am having some decent fun in finding out what I all got in my hauls. Half of taking on a haul is just shoving whatever boxes and cartons of stuff you have into your car, thanking the person you got them from, and getting the hell out of there. Much like The Gambler, you never count your money while you’re sitting at the table, there’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.

So I have a few interesting pieces in the mess to drool over when I get some spare time (I’ll post pictures sometime sooner than later), but my mission is not to sit and fondle at this point, it’s to get the job done.

And doing it I am — I’m getting rid of a lot of the regular old PCs that I’ve been keeping over the years, finally realizing that although that 386 looks neat and has some interesting, old hardware in it, in reality it’s just an old, common computer and isn’t that remarkable. Much like the rock that looked really pretty when you saw it in the stream, once dried out it loses its luster. I’m making room for the REALLY interesting computers for once.

This is, of course, all an effort to get the swell under control before the Small Kicker arrives, so when I have some limited time to “play”, I can actually do something instead of wading through piles of parts and dangerously-leaning stacks of crap. I’d like to keep a bouncy seat down there, too, so the ankle biter can come along and geek out with Dad, but I’m not about to submit the fruit of my loins to possible injury by the Leaning Tower of PCs.

All in all, I’m getting some time into my computer room(s) and my collection, so I’m happy about that, and my wife is happy at the idea of being able to see all four walls again in those rooms. (Love you, babe!) After all, if diving into your collection doesn’t involve a little adventure, what’s the point, right?

Now….can I interest you in a few dozen power cables?