immediately that they didn’t train him too well, considering he didn’t recognize my name. Then again, we were in a bigger town , and why would he give it a second thought.
“Unsolved murders in the Colville, Jamestown, New Haven a reas. Hartford, too. She would know where I’d look in the card catalog.”
He choked out a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I was confused.
“We don’t use the card catalog anymore. Not really.”
“You don’t use the Dewey decimal system ? ”
“Oh, we do. Just not the card catalog. And why are you looking up books ? T he information is at your fingertips . ”
I heaved in a breath, wincing. “I really don’t feel like going through hours of microfilm.”
He laughed again. “You can do that. But try on line first. A lot of you r papers are there. Not to mention the stor i es.”
Not wanting to appear ignorant, I nodded, acting as if I knew what he meant w hen , clearly, I didn't. “Oh, how silly. On … line. Why didn’t I think of that? And where can I do that?”
He pointed.
I thought, okay, what was he pointing at. I apparently looked clueless .
“The sign?” he said.
With another nod, I did notice the sign. It read: Computer Lab, with arrow pointing down the steps.
“You’ll need to enter the identification number on your library card.”
I thank ed him and followed the sign.
A computer lab. Wow. I did know what a computer was. It had been a topic of discussion with Richie and me . He wanted to get one really bad. A Compaq computer that was supposed to be state of the art. But it cost over a thousand dollars , and that was a lot of money for a mechanic’s family.
The only time I had ever used one was when my mother got the Radio Shack Tandy computer , and even then, I gave up because it took hours to key in letters and numbers and codes all to make a spinning box .
I gasped at the thought and prayed that computers had come a long way.
I knew they had.
What in the world, though, was a computer lab?
I soon found out after going down the stairs.
It wasn’t a laboratory like I envisioned from science class. It was a room full of computers. Rows and rows of them. People used them. My God, the library must really have funds in Hartford.
Surely, the local ones didn’t have those. Maybe one.
I lucked out. But I didn’t have a clue on what to do.
A swirling design was on the compute I chose to use.
I stared at it . How was I supposed to get the design off the screen?
I looked around. Who looked friendly enough to approach? I hate even speaking to people , but I had to.
I stood and just as I did, a young girl walked up to me. She had a library identification card hanging from her neck.
“You look lost.”
“I s this broke ?” I pointed to the computer. “ Out of commission ?”
“I don’t think so,” she said sweetly. Then reached down. She grabbed on to the oval object, the thing I would soon learn was called a mouse , and moved it. “Nope. Fine. Just enter your ID number.”
A small gray panel that said ‘log in’ was before me. It was so S tar W ars, I felt out of my league.
I sat back down and entered my number slowly. I never really was any good at typing.
And I waited.
“You have to press enter.”
Enter. Enter. Enter . I shifted my eyes around and saw the word on the keyboard. “Oh, the return key , ” I said aloud and hit it. Suddenly the screen changed and I was staring at a computer picture of the college campus.
“Okay , ” s he said and pulled up a chair. “Forgive me. But you really look lost.”
“I am.” I looked at the young girl. She had to be about eighteen. Long blonde hair. Just cute and innocent . But she looked smart. I w as willing to wager that all young people were smarter than we ever were. “I have never used a computer.”
“Ever?”
I shook my head. “A Tandy .”
She fluttered her lips. “I heard of that . It’s like the first sort of computer.”
Again, I nodded. “ For instance ,
“Unsolved murders in the Colville, Jamestown, New Haven a reas. Hartford, too. She would know where I’d look in the card catalog.”
He choked out a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I was confused.
“We don’t use the card catalog anymore. Not really.”
“You don’t use the Dewey decimal system ? ”
“Oh, we do. Just not the card catalog. And why are you looking up books ? T he information is at your fingertips . ”
I heaved in a breath, wincing. “I really don’t feel like going through hours of microfilm.”
He laughed again. “You can do that. But try on line first. A lot of you r papers are there. Not to mention the stor i es.”
Not wanting to appear ignorant, I nodded, acting as if I knew what he meant w hen , clearly, I didn't. “Oh, how silly. On … line. Why didn’t I think of that? And where can I do that?”
He pointed.
I thought, okay, what was he pointing at. I apparently looked clueless .
“The sign?” he said.
With another nod, I did notice the sign. It read: Computer Lab, with arrow pointing down the steps.
“You’ll need to enter the identification number on your library card.”
I thank ed him and followed the sign.
A computer lab. Wow. I did know what a computer was. It had been a topic of discussion with Richie and me . He wanted to get one really bad. A Compaq computer that was supposed to be state of the art. But it cost over a thousand dollars , and that was a lot of money for a mechanic’s family.
The only time I had ever used one was when my mother got the Radio Shack Tandy computer , and even then, I gave up because it took hours to key in letters and numbers and codes all to make a spinning box .
I gasped at the thought and prayed that computers had come a long way.
I knew they had.
What in the world, though, was a computer lab?
I soon found out after going down the stairs.
It wasn’t a laboratory like I envisioned from science class. It was a room full of computers. Rows and rows of them. People used them. My God, the library must really have funds in Hartford.
Surely, the local ones didn’t have those. Maybe one.
I lucked out. But I didn’t have a clue on what to do.
A swirling design was on the compute I chose to use.
I stared at it . How was I supposed to get the design off the screen?
I looked around. Who looked friendly enough to approach? I hate even speaking to people , but I had to.
I stood and just as I did, a young girl walked up to me. She had a library identification card hanging from her neck.
“You look lost.”
“I s this broke ?” I pointed to the computer. “ Out of commission ?”
“I don’t think so,” she said sweetly. Then reached down. She grabbed on to the oval object, the thing I would soon learn was called a mouse , and moved it. “Nope. Fine. Just enter your ID number.”
A small gray panel that said ‘log in’ was before me. It was so S tar W ars, I felt out of my league.
I sat back down and entered my number slowly. I never really was any good at typing.
And I waited.
“You have to press enter.”
Enter. Enter. Enter . I shifted my eyes around and saw the word on the keyboard. “Oh, the return key , ” I said aloud and hit it. Suddenly the screen changed and I was staring at a computer picture of the college campus.
“Okay , ” s he said and pulled up a chair. “Forgive me. But you really look lost.”
“I am.” I looked at the young girl. She had to be about eighteen. Long blonde hair. Just cute and innocent . But she looked smart. I w as willing to wager that all young people were smarter than we ever were. “I have never used a computer.”
“Ever?”
I shook my head. “A Tandy .”
She fluttered her lips. “I heard of that . It’s like the first sort of computer.”
Again, I nodded. “ For instance ,
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