My Life with Computers

Some Computer History

1/3 of the guts of the Sperry UNIVAC – My first computer experience in 1968 – punched paper tape input

The IBM Selectric typewriter with extra type heads – first used one in 1972

The C-64 – my first home computer – cost was $750. Monitor and floppy disk drive extra

The floppy disk could hold 360kB – the information for ONE low-res photo

My first “laptop” weighed 11 lbs - $2,999

First computer modem

MS-DOS had no graphics, only text Commands were sent via the Command Line

Memory was slow and bulky and expensive. The drive is about 6”x6”x4”
A 32 Gig USB memory holds 320 times the information

The first time I ever came face-to-face with a computer was at the World’s Fair in Flushing, NY in 1964. The IBM exhibit had a very impressive egg shaped structure, which showed a movie about the future. After the ride, the exit area had a real operating computer, complete with a huge panel of flashing lights and guys dressed in lab jackets and ties. And a new word was added to my young vocabulary – computer.

Four years later, I was selected to attend a National Science Foundation summer program at Brown University in Providence, RI. We were allowed time to visit the brand new Sperry (Univac) computer lab and assigned the project of writing a computer program in FORTRAN to list all prime numbers up to 10,000. It was one thing to study the code manual and write the program. T’was another to get it into the machine. There was no convenient keyboard. Rather, a big  typewriter-like machine that would punch appropriate holes into a paper strip as each letter was keyed. It was manual, so key pounding was a real technique. Not only that, but each coded command had to be numbered, properly formatted and spaced. A single mistake would cause the program to fail and the whole paper strip had to be redone.

Programs had to be compact, as the entire CPU, which took up the size of a living room, only had 64k of operating memory - the same as a future Commodore 64 home computer. There were hundreds of relays and vacuum tubes, which failed on a regular basis. So, even if the code was properly written and the paper tape didn’t jam in the reader, a program could still fail for hardware error. After endless hours of labor, the Holy Grail of a yellow tinted print out was obtained. While this was exciting, it hardly seemed that the computer was of real practical use.

A little more than a year passed, and I found myself at Princeton, in the company of a new IBM Model 360-90. It had more memory, a lightening fast processor, huge magnetic tape drives, a printer that printed a whole line of text at one time, and best of all – computer cards. The iconic, dollar bill sized cards held one line of code per card. This meant that mistakes were more easily corrected and the card reader was much more reliable than the tape reader. Code had changed to BASIC, which was similar, but far more powerful than FORTRAN and had many useful operating and format functions.

It was mostly a time for experimentation. There were a few courses that required computer use. The one practical program that I wrote generated random dice rolls for backgammon. Players would play off the list of rolls and then reverse pages after an appropriate time. I had insisted that my room mate Ed O’Lear beat me due to his amazing luck. Sadly, I was proved wrong when he beat me with either set of rolls.

There was no computer at law school. Even the real estate office where I worked part time had no computers. MLS, which now is entirely online, consisted of huge bound listing sheets, which were reprinted only once every two weeks.

It was not until 1980 that I returned to computing. My ex-wife Dorinda gave me a Commodore Vic-20 for Christmas. To have a real, albeit primitive CPU on my own desk was quite a thrill. Input via keyboard was virtually fool-proof, and programs – still using BASIC code – could be saved on floppy disks. There were some commercial programs available for accounting, word processing and data base management. Games had no graphics and consisted of typed input commands. It was a time for further experimentation and small business related programs. The Vic soon gave way to the Commodore 64 and 128.

My first attempt at a commercially useful program was MixMaster. The impetus was a Thanksgiving visit with my father-in-law, Roy, who managed a dog food plant. Animal feed can be made from an assortment of hundreds of raw materials, but the final product must have a specific content of protein, fiber and fat. Calculating the proportions of the raw materials is a combination of trial and error and experience. But, I remembered (thanks to my ex-roomie Peter Randall) an economics algorithm which could not only produce the precise final content, but at least cost. For several months, I slept an average of 3-4 hours per night and finally produced a usable program, which I sold to a few feed plants and one fertilizer plant, which operated on the same principles. Sadly, IBM soon came out with a version of the same program, very effectively putting me out of business, in part because my program ran on the Commodore.

Despite my animosity toward Big Blue/IBM, I purchased one of the first IBM Portable computers in 1984 for something like $4,500. Portable was almost a joke, since the beast weighed over 40 lbs. It had a 9” monochrome display, no hard drive and 2 floppy disk drives.

IBM’s version of BASIC also offered a compiler, which meant that programs ran much faster. On it, I wrote many operating programs for my Thermalbar thermometer business, including inventory control and sales commission and payroll calculation. I also wrote code for a wine distributor, which managed inventory, delivery and tax calculation.

In 1990, I bought one of the first Compaq “laptop” computers. It was a far cry from the slender, light ones we know today. It was about 4” thick, weighed 9 lbs and had a 12” screen. I took it to Mexico with me and used it solely as a word processor to write my three screenplays. It served for many years, finally succumbing to a large glass of spilt beer.

Bear in mind that all this was done with Dear Old MS-DOS, the Microsoft operating system that preceded Windows. All commands were entered on a command line. There were no icons, no graphics to speak of, no desktop and no mouse, no dragging, no point and click. There was no multi-tasking – only one program could run at a time. There was no Internet, just machine to machine communication over the phone lines via modems and transmissions were often garbled and always very slow. It was an old school art form and those of us who knew Ms Dos, loved her and bore her as a badge of honor. Memory was at a premium, processors were slow, on-board hard drives were unknown. And it was all state of the art – every day.

I was away from computers for three years and when I returned, it was a whole new world of Windows, which made the PC usable to the masses. The youth of today take all this for granted. But those of us who evolved with the computer evolution can perhaps better and truly appreciate what an incredible, almost miraculous service computers and the Internet provide today.

                  THE MASTER AND KABUUL : A Computer Parable

 

          Allow me to introduce Kabuul, a servant/slave, whose service you

     may want to aquire. 

          Kabuul is a loyal and totally obedient servant.  He will do

     whatever his Master asks at any time.  Kabuul has many attributes.

     His memory is unfailing.  He can remember a long list of chores and

     will perform them exactly as directed.  Kabuul will carry out the most

     menial and thankless tasks without complaint and will work without

     rest until the task is completed. 

          Despite his many talents and abilities, Kabuul has limitations.

     His obedience is so strict, that he will carry out Master's orders, no

     matter how idiotic they may be.  He knows and remembers only Master's

     instructions and wisdom, though he can be sent to the Gurus to fetch

     and use their wisdom. 

          Having owned Kabuul for many years, I offer the following

     observations to other owners.  First, recognize Kabuul's talents and

     use his service for those tasks to which he is best suited, and not

     for your every need.  Many times you will find it much easier and

     expedient to do the job yourself, rather than give Kabuul the detailed

     and exact instructions he needs. 

          For example, if you wish to send a letter to each of your

     thousand closest friends, addressing each by name, use Kabuul.  He

     will tirelessly and flawlessly copy your letter a thousand times,

     beginning each with a different name from a list, which you must

     provide him.  Provide him a dictionary, and he will also gladly test

     every word in your letter, though he is unable to detect your

     incorrect usage or improve your style.  Upon completion, should you

     decide to add a thought to the middle of the letter, Kabuul will,

     without hesitation or complaint, re-write all thousand letters.  If

     you have written an article on large paper and wish to copy it on

     smaller papers, Kabuul will do this well, using whatever size script

     and margins you instruct.  However, to write a shopping list for the

     market, serve yourself.  You waste time summoning Kabuul, instructing

     him in what form you desire the list, and dictating it to him. 

          Or, say you have a large pile of stones that are to be sorted by

     size, call on Kabuul.  He will sort into as many sizes as you ask.  Or

     if you need to select just one stone from the huge pile, tell Kabuul

     the exact description of that stone and he will examine every stone

     until he finds it.  But, if you merely want to move the large pile of

     stones, borrow a friend's bulldozer.  

          Similarly, if you have several pieces of furniture in a room, and

     the Mistress wishes to see every possible arrangement of the room (as

     is often the case), Kabuul will cheerfully and tirelessly move tables

     and chairs and lamps until Mistress is satisfied.  He will most humbly

     decline, however, to offer any opinion.  This you must chance

     yourself.

          You must also learn to give Kabuul exact instructions and to

     understand what meanings he attributes to your commands.  His abject

     desire to please Master leads him to do precisely what is ordered, no

     matter how odd or dire the result.  If you tell Kabuul to pick up all

     the toys in your son's room and throw away any that are broken, you

     may find that he has hurled broken toys out the window and is still

     carrying those he picked up.  Tell him simply to clean a room, and you

     may find an immaculate room, with all furnishings and wall hangings

     gone.  Learning to direct Kabuul may take time, but it is essential,

     if Kabuul is to be a useful servant. 

          Masters who understand and use Kabuul's talents well, who learn

     to properly direct him, give him a decent place to live, and clean him

     occasionally, will find Kabuul a powerful, reliable, and most useful

     servant.  They may even develop a certain affection toward him.