The Mabley Archive: A return to 1995, before personal computers became essential

In 1988, when longtime Glenview resident Jack Mabley brought his column to the Daily Herald, he made a couple of requests: 1. Let him keep his ugly, old green chair. 2. Launch an edition for his hometown. He kept the chair. And now, more than a decade after his passing in 2006, his second request has been granted. This column is from Feb. 17, 1997.

Probably two-thirds of our readers don't have personal computers at home.

Some may feel, as I did last year, out of it, mystified by the babble about cyberspace and networks and read-only memories.

Last November I bought a personal computer because ... well, because I felt out of it, and also because a computer exercises the mind the way a home-exercise machine tones the body.

After a few weeks with the machine and its online communications, I wrote an enthusiastic column about it. I was dazzled by the novelty.

Now six months later I say to non-owners - it's no big deal. I'm not sorry I bought it, but I could live a full life without it.

One of the wonders is e-mail - instant communication with somebody out there. At first my daughter in Idaho and I exchanged mailings with chit-chat and where we'd be and what we were doing.

No more. Now we use the telephone. It's far more personal and warm.

Get the latest news on America Online. Every time I punch up the New York Times or the Chicago Tribune, the news is there, but it's news that I read that morning, or the day before.

America Online gives access to the world, to e-mail, to message boards, to news, to shopping, to chat lines.

That's if you can get through. Last Sunday evening I tried from 7 until after 10 to get on-line. It was always full.

It's that way most evenings. And if you do get on, often the functions are maddeningly slow.

It isn't cheap. My monthly bill has been from $32 to $35.

There are real pluses, of course. I have received valuable column material and letters from readers via e-mail. Answering these messages is as simple as writing a few paragraphs and pushing a button.

I've made some good friends who graciously included me in their message board postings.

I've read hundreds, maybe thousands, of messages relating to public matters, such as the Baby Richard story.

Many of these messages are irresponsible and mean, but many are reasoned and informative. You learn to sort it out.

As a tool to exercise my mind, the PC hasn't done much. It's my fault. I have a stack of paperback books and pamphlets 8 inches high (or wide) to help me operate all the systems in the computer.

They sit unread. As soon as I learned how to handle a simple letter, and how to get on-line, my needs were met.

Maybe next winter or next year I'll get to them. By then my machine may be obsolete.

"Silicon Snake Oil: Second Thoughts on the Information Highway" is a new book by Clifford Stoll, who has been on-line for 20 years.

His 20-year reaction is similar to mine of six months. He writes, "The most important interactions in life happen between people, not between computers. ...

"The truth is no on-line database will replace your daily newspaper, no CD-ROM can take the place of a competent teacher, and no computer network will change the way government works."

It's easier to order a pizza by phone than to grapple with a computer network.

The Internet with its vast system of message boards and chat lines has become, in Stoll's words, "a wasteland of unfiltered data. You don't know what to ignore and what's worth reading. ...What's missing in this electronic wonderland? Human contact."

Have you been in your public library lately? Or into a Barnes and Noble or Border's or Crown book store? They're jammed. They are an answer to the cyberspace revolution. A very nice answer.