James Drogan

My Thinkpad R60, which had served me well, even surviving a fall off my office desk, finally succumbed. It didn't stop working, but rather "ran out of gas."  Too slow, not enough memory, hard disk running out of space; all the things that happen from time to time.  Apparent failure in the USB ports; autoplay not autoplaying.

I replaced it with a ThinkPad SL510 and began the process of putting the soul into the new machine a couple of days ago.  It's amazing, really, to think about how one tailors, over time (four years in this case) a piece of technology to align with the way one works.  It's not reinstalling the major chunks of software (e.g., Firefox) that is the most fascinating,  but rather the little things that I added in almost a subconscious manner in the continuous effort to make the machine part of me (or is it the other way around).  I continue to discover these little things.

There is the need to get used to a slightly different layout on the keyboard and a slightly different display interface (e.g., the Windows 7 taskbar).  I'm reminded here of the notion that if it isn't broke, don't fix it.  Ah, well, compulsion for change is doubtless in the DNA of the technologist.

The title of this post is suggested by Tracy Kidder's great book, The Soul of a New Machine, now some 28 years old.