Telling stories over again (circumlunar.space), 12/04/2019
------------------------------------------------------------
I've got a few stories  to share. Lately, I've been feeling 
like I've already told everyone everything there is to know 
about me.  Every time I  want to tell  a story, I  get this 
sinking feeling that I'm being terribly repetitive. Most of 
the time, I just skip the stories.                          

Yet here  I am, telling  stories, in spite of  that feeling.
The first one might justify my actions:

From 2013 to  2018, I made friends with a  man roughly twice
my age...  that puts him  near 80  folks, in case  you don't
know my  birth date. This is  not at all uncommon  for me, I
really enjoy people with more  life experience, and have for
a  long time  (Mini-meta-story: every  Sunday when  I was  a
teen, my mother  would take me with her to  visit a friend's
mother  in a  nursing home.  We'd visit,  and she'd  have me
amuse the  other people  in the group  home. I  learned that
older people  are full of  life in their spirits,  even when
their  bodies  can barely  hold  on).  To make  things  even
better, this fellow was a historian.

No,  honestly, he  was a  historian. He  worked at  the town
museum. His  family helped settle  the town. His  mother was
still alive  when I met him-  she was 104- and  he showed me
the house  where she  was born. His  father owned  the first
generator that brought  power to the town (they  only ran it
at night). There was no  one with more information about his
part of the earth than him.

This man  had boatloads  of stories. They  were interesting!
They were  relevant too; they  helped me  get to know  a new
town, and feel more at home. They connected me in a way that
I  never could  have  connected without  them.  I know  they
aren't my  stories, but  I should  start writing  them down,
they were that interesting to me. They were that good.

Right away I noticed something  about this man, something in
the way people treated him. There was almost a knowing, eye-
rolling reaction whenever he would start in on a story. They
loved him,  the people I'm  talking about, but  they'd known
him a lot longer. They had heard all the stories before.

Pretty soon, I had heard all  the stories too (at least all 
the commonly  told ones,  sometimes he would  surprise me). 
But  that  didn't stop  him;  when  something happened,  or 
something came  to mind, he's  start sharing, as if  he had 
never shared that particular story before.                  

I  recall reading  some study  about the  elderly re-sharing
stories, I  think; the takeaway  that comes to mind  is that
there is  *value* in the  phenomenon. There is value  in re-
telling stories.

For  my part,  I never  got  tired of  hearing his  stories.
Partly  in respect  for his  age and  experience, I  let him
speak. But in reality, it  was to my benefit. Those stories,
and their  meaning, took real  form in my mind.  They became
part of me, they passed on  through me (to what end, I don't
know).

My own stories  might be mundane; they certainly  feel a lot
more  mundane than  his! Even  so,  I'm going  to just  keep
telling them  when I  feel like it-  and, I  should probably
stop  saying anything  about it.  No one  needs or  wants my
apology for  sharing more  than once. If  they do,  they can
contact  me directly  at tfurrows@sdf.org.  Perhaps if  I do
keep telling my own stories  (and those of others), someone,
somewhere will benefit from them in some small way.

--------------------------------------------------------

With  that preface/excuse,  I'd like  to reminisce  about my
early days as a Linux user.  There's a bit of a conversation
going on  in gopherspace  about "Unix Philosophy,"  and I've
been having a short (so  far) discussion with one user about
it via email, so the topic is fresh in my mind.

I  graduated  high school  in  1996.  If  you know  your  OS
history,  you'll not  be  shocked to  learn  that the  first
computer I used  in school was the Apple  II in gradeschool,
followed  by  a  variety  of  x86  systems  in  high  school
(everything from IBM systems to generic, 8086 to 80286, 386,
and onward at a rapid pace). Somehow, computers just weren't
a thing between gradeschool and  high school... I learned to
type in school, though, on an IBM electric. I loved the slam
of the high-speed ball thing on the paper.

Most of my  memorable computer user as a kid  was in DOS. My
dad had  an Epson Equity II+,  8088, with MSDOS 3.3.  We had
Space  Quest  III on  floppies,  Manhunter,  and some  other
stuff. I played games, and that was about it.

Fast  forward  through  several  steps  of  introduction  to
computing, and I arrived at  Slackware Linux sometime in the
90s. The  first install  was downloaded to  a huge  stack of
floppies; getting X running on  my packard bell laptop was a
breakthrough for  me. I recall  buying a set of  install CDs
(version 3.1 or  3.3 I think). I stuck with  Slackware for a
few years, and learned to love Linux.

Then  I got older, and  started to  work. Never mind  where,
never mind what, but  I was  working with  computers, and  I
loved Linux. In my mind, the world needed Linux badly, and I
was going to help deliver it. Companies were willing. It was
a  good time.  I  bought Linux  magazines, proselytized  the
benefits, and  generally behaved like a  religious zealot. I
decried the evils of "Micro$oft,"  and generally made a fool
of myself. Those were the days.

Now, about  the philosophies of  Unix... you'll note  that I
did not come in at the Unix level, I started in on the Linux
level. I didn't have the  same start as someone a generation
ahead of me. I was an  OS radical without a real foundation,
fighting for something that  I didn't really understand. And
so, I eventually  stopped caring. Don't get  me wrong, every
computer in  my house runs  on Linux  or a BSD  variant (not
counting  retro  systems and  mobile).  I  still *love*  the
command line, I just don't *care* about the politics.

When someone today talks about "Unix Philosophy," I get what
they mean,  and I agree  with some of what  they're selling.
Simple is  awesome to  me, the  command line  is a  thing of
beauty and  a joy  forever. Doing one  thing well  is dandy.
Modularity is handy. Users-as-programmers  is neat too, even
if they're low-grade programmers  like myself. It just Feels
Good(TM). But, I'm not going to join a cult over it. I'm not
going to howl and scream  and worry about what businesses do
with their  money. I'll contribute  if I can. I'll  join the
fun, but I won't be an acolyte, I had my time with that.

Of course,  if others want  to take  up the banner,  I don't
wish to disparage them. I'm grateful for all those who carry
on! Consider  me one of  your users, Unix  Philosophers, the
target audience. Thank you for all that you do, for all that
you  contribute. If  it weren't  for you,  slackers like  me
couldn't have the  special brand of fun that  your hard work
makes available. Seriously, I'm deeply indebted to you, in a
way that  I can never  repay. Carry  on, and fight  the good
fight!