Tools of our Childhoods

My first computer was an IBM XT Clone.  It's expense rivals a pretty,  customized new Imac, notwithstanding inflation.  This was the greatest gift I had ever received (and it probably still holds as the most expensive) and I'm sure, my newly American parents thought it would give me a major headstart into the new world (thus, the ability to pay them back sooner then then later).

It had a VGA monitor.  My cousin got the Super VGA.  I was seething with envy.

The startup screen was MSDOS.  In those days, we all needed to learn a bit of programming to make that thing do anything.  Wish I stuck that one out a bit longer then a couple years, before the outdoors, BMX bikes and sports took center stage.

It clocked in at around 6MHZ.  It had a turbo button which threw it all the way up to around 8MHZ.  I don't remember the RAM capacity, nor the hard drive.  I'm guessing those where in the very low MB's and kB's range?  Maybe?  I don't want to check google.  I remember it a certain way, and hell, that's the way it should be.  After all, its my memory, I own it.

So, here this is what I might be getting at.  Isn't it nice to remember things without the NEED for precise accuracy?  I mean, I enjoy my childhood memories to exist in the imagination, not the facts.  Facts are boring, uninspiring.  Sometimes of course, they should be the first choice.  But not always.     

A little space between that objective and subjective lies the truth.  It feels right.  It's more personal that way.  


Post Script Additional Anecdote:

I was given a gift of THE NEVER ENDING STORY during a Christmas party.  I was ecstatic   It was one of my favorite childhood movies.  It was fucking glorious when I first saw it.  I remembered all those magical moments.  Suffice to say, watching it in my adult world, in an adult loft in downtown LA, with my adult perspective was anything but magical.  Not to say that I didn't enjoy the experience fully, but it might have been better to leave the memory as was, then dilute it with all that junk and grime on our adult lenses.  I know some of you nostalgic nut heads can frame these things better then I.  Good for you.