Apple /// mini-adventure

Last week we had a little party for our 25th wedding anniversary. Feeling geekily nostalgic, I decided at the last minute to dig out my ancient Apple /// computer (that's how we wrote "Apple III" back in the day) and set it up, in hopes of allowing our guests to type in their memories on this old hunk of technology.

My task started promisingly as I quickly located the computer (in its sleek leatherette case) on a shelf in the garage. Soon thereafter, I managed to find the monitor -- a monochrome Monitor ///, of course. The standard monitor at the time had green phosphor, but I owned a rare white phosphor model, its case now streaked with the grime that comes from two decades of resting in a garage. Back in the house, I cleared space on a kitchen counter by setting aside the bread machine and replaced it with ye olde computer.

Next, I located a power cable for the computer and plugged it in. The 5.25 inch disk drive LED came on and the drive made seeky noises: it was alive! An expedition inside the Big Bag O'cables quickly resulted in success, as I located a standard video cable for the monitor.

Now I could see what was going on as I booted the only disk that was inside the computer bag: the Pascal /// system disk. It worked fine, and it was a thrill to see that good old gray scale display. I was presented with the deeply familiar UCSD Pascal command line. But this was a dead end. I tried to run the Editor, which only caused Pascal to search fruitlessly for an unknown disk in a non-existent external drive.

So, back to the garage to look for some other software. Before long, I struck a rich vein: an entire box of Apple /// diskettes. Right on top was Apple Writer, the absolute state of the art in Apple /// word processing (written by Paul Lutus, a man who [according to legend] lived on a mountaintop in Oregon and drew his AC power with a five hundred foot extension cord, but that's another story).

I went back in the house and immediately caught the burning smell. Like the bread machine it had displaced, the Apple /// was cooking. A thin trickle of white smoke trailed from the opening at the back. The display was a sad, scrambled mess. I reached for the plug to pull it out of the wall, and two sparks of flame zapped loudly through the expansion ports on the back, leaving scorch marks on the kitchen wall.

As I yanked the plug, Barbara came into the kitchen, wondering why the house now stunk like melted plastic. Despite the fact that she used to balance our checkbook on that very computer in our first home (using VisiCalc ///, of course), at that moment she felt no love and ordered the thing out of her kitchen. I took it back to the garage, where it still remains.

I guess I should have dug out the old 128K Mac instead.

Comments

[Grover F. Nunnery]

I still have my trusty Apple /// in its leatherette case tucked away. I haven't been adventurous enough to set it up again since retiring it for a Macintosh. Thanks for the memory!

[Zgybnver]

kds5OT

[tramadol paracetamol dolcet]

I want to say - thank you for this!

[mp 717 tramadol percoset]

Great. Now i can say thank you!