Copyright 1992(c)

                     WHEN THE MEMORY GOES...
                        By Jack McGeehin
 
     My computer's hard disk is nearly full and I'm worried. The 
well-versed expert who sold it to me said that twenty megabytes
was plenty big for a person with modest computing needs. 
     That's me all right, Mr. Modest Computer User. I hardily
admit that when it comes time to operate my computer I prefer to
simply fumble my way into the word processing directory, select
my current story file and begin writing. No deviations. No quick
F-19 missions to destroy Libya or Iraq before getting started.
Just word processing. 
     So why is it that my memory box is bursting at the seams
before the beast has even gone out of warranty? Computer literate
friends is why. But before I start casting aspersions about my
friends, I should point out, in all fairness, that it was these
very same people who helped me pick out and assemble my computer.
Without their help putting the binary monster together, I would
have tackled the job myself, in the usual manner, meaning there
would be extra parts when I finished, and a hangover, but not in
the way of functionality. 
     So for my friends' help I am thankful. If only it had
stopped there. But they knew they were dealing with the village
idiot of computers in me. Feeling a sense of responsibility for
my continued computer education, they would drop in periodically
to check on my progress. Mostly they were unimpressed with my
mastery of the on/off switch and ability to access the word
processor in just under one hour. "That's really good," they
would say, "but is that all this thing does?"   
     They said I needed games. "Games," they said, "make the
computer go buzz, whurr, and beep." 
     "Isn't it doing that now?" I asked. 
     "Right now it's whurring," they said. "Whurring comes with
the computer."  To fully utilize the machine, apparently I needed
to make it buzz and beep as well, and for that I needed games. 
      So I bought some games. Games for blowing things up,
mostly. I now have enough firepower in bombs, bullets, and
magical implements to destroy this planet and several others.
There are army men, Ninja warriors, wizards, extraterrestrials,
good guys, bad guys, guys I haven't even met yet. 
     Unfortunately, I don't know how to access any of this stuff,
but just knowing it's there is comforting. Peace through
strength, that's what I always say. 
     Lately I've been wondering what happens to all these
destructive elements when they are idle in my hard disk (which is
most of the time). Do they just sit there like good volunteer
warriors, waiting for that civil defense alarm to sound and send
them off into battle? 
     My biggest concern is that they could get loose inside my 
computer and take each other on. I mean, what if some Attack
Force Marines got drunk and decided to go over to the Secret
Dungeon and kick some Wizard's butt? Worse, what if the wrong
element got hold of some thermonuclear devices and set them off
inside my C.P.U.? Spwatt! I know for a fact that I'm not covered
for anything thermonuclear under my computer warranty. 
     None of this speculation really matters, because soon my
hard disk will become full and refuse to accept even a teenyweeny
byte more of digital information. When this happens I will
probably just throw the whole darn thing away and start writing
by hand again. 
     At least I can depend on the old human memory chip. Unlike 
the computer, my brain will never become completely full, since
it is constantly making room for new information by forgetting
things that it no longer thinks are important. Things like
birthdays, names of former girlfriends, and putting pants on
before venturing outside. 
     The good thing about this constant cycling of life's
remembrances is that it flushes out the old with the new, often
taking away memories of some unpleasant times. I, for example, no
longer remember anything about Richard Nixon. Pretty funny, huh?
     "Let's see a computer think up a joke like that!" I
confidently exclaimed to one of my computer jock friends. I
pointed symbolically to my brain and said, "It's what's in this
memory bank that counts." 
     He paused for a moment and then looked into my ear
quizzically before inquiring, "Is that all this thing can do?" 
                               END