My husband was always a tech guy; first a programmer, then a systems guy, then a thinker – a management consultant. I came out of college with a Theater Arts degree and a teaching certificate. As he began grad school, I begged for a job in his office and they took the bait, thinking they could train me (Over-Educated, Under-Qualified). First I keypunched, taking the punch card decks to a service bureau in the building next door that had a huge array of IBM computers. I just dropped off the decks and picked them up with the print-outs the next day.

Within a few years, one of the smart people at SofTech configured a PDP-8 (the Featured photo), hardly a personal computer, but still, small enough to fit in a room in our office without special air conditioning. And he somehow decided that I should run it, as I was Chief Program Librarian. This computer was called a “minicomputer”, made by Digital Equipment Corporation, headquartered in Maynard, MA, about a half hour west of our office. Those computers had a fair amount of horse power in their day and the programmers in our office liked having their own computer, rather than having to pay to use an outside service. I’m sure the company had done a cost/benefit analysis and found it made sense to purchase this computer for the growing company.

I had no idea how to run a computer, but Barry (the fellow who configured and purchased this one), taught me how to maintain it, check to make sure it ran properly, order supplies for it, and the like. I never learned how to actually use it. I have no idea how to program. That skill has eluded me all these years, even though I always earned a living in the tech sector.

When I was selling, I always had a smart MBA-type at my side to answer the technical questions. I knew how to do the initial sales pitch, ask the right questions, listen carefully, make sure the prospect’s questions were answered, and ASK for the sale. But I never learned how to use whatever it was I was selling (at one point, even when I sold software, we had a deal where we could sell hardware too and I sold a Prime minicomputer to Coca Cola in Atlanta, GA, and Hardee’s Food Systems in Rocky Mount, NC. I was there for the installation, to make sure all went smoothly, but didn’t have a clue what transpired; a smart hardware/systems person from my company took care of that).

Dan, with two friends, bought one of the first IBM personal computers in 1981. The three of them were going to start a business. They thought about writing software to run small doctor’s offices, a good idea that they never got off the ground. The machine sat in our study for some time. Since then, we have been a 100% Apple family. Dan just bought a new MacBook Air for himself a few weeks ago. I still use the 10 year old desk top in the den.

Old desk top Apple

During my years selling software and related services, from 1977-1985, I had various territories through the midwest and New England. Sometimes I drove my own car to see clients, other times I flew into cities and picked up rental cars (I always asked for small cars; I couldn’t see over the steering wheels of those big Buicks). This was long before GPS came into popular usage.

I should state that I have no innate sense of direction. I can read a map (even those little ones that the rental car companies used to provide). But I needed more detailed instructions to get to the specific location.

As I set up appointments, I made it my practice to ask the client/prospect for detailed driving directions. If I came in from the airport, even if I stayed at a hotel (sometimes I would fly in and out in a single day), I asked for directions with the airport as the starting point. I could navigate from there. Telling me to travel north or south never helped. I needed to know to turn left or right, how many lights I’d pass, what were the landmarks I’d pass (“look for the Waffle House on your right”, for example).

I would always allow myself an extra half hour in the event that I’d get lost. And I was NEVER afraid to stop at a gas station (this was long before self-service was ubiquitous) and ask for help, if I sensed that I was way off track.

I had stacks of 3X5 cards with the client’s name, company, address, phone number and driving directions to get to his company (almost invariably male). I kept those in my briefcase, alphabetized, bound by a rubber band. Each client then had a folder with other information from each call, once I started the relationship, but that card had the pertinent information for getting to the destination. I could hold it up in my hand as I drove. I might not know if I’ve driven .3 miles, but I knew if I’d passed the middle school. The landmarks kept me on-track.

She wanted me to be her instrument; I just wanted to be her fearless union leader.
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I have such strong memories of S&H Green Stamps - the look, the feel, and even the taste of the glue.
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My pediatric dentist was a tall man, so of course, he was called “Tiny”. As my second teeth came in, it was clear, even before braces were discussed, there was not enough room in my small mouth for those large teeth, so he spoke with my mother about extracting two, possibly four (top and bottom) of the incisors. They wouldn’t be missed and would leave room for more of those large second teeth.

An appointment for the extraction was made. “Tiny” Konikow would do it himself in his office, though I would be under sedation. My always-nervous mother probably made me nervous about the process as well. I think I was 9 years old. Going into the procedure, it wasn’t clear if two or four teeth would be removed.

I was in the chair, it was reclined way back. He and his nurse were very reassuring. I remember seeing the mask coming toward me. I think they used ether, as I remember the smell of gas. Tiny asked me to count backwards from 100. I got to 99 and was out.

I had the most peculiar dream. I lay on my back with my feet in the air, up against a wall (presaging my love of Pilates, perhaps?). Suddenly, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, the three good fairies from the Disney version of “Sleeping Beauty”, were buzzing over my head, singing to me. Crazy, right? Then the dream was over and the dentist called me back to reality. The operation was over, gauze was packed in my bloody tooth sockets. He reassured me that all had gone well. He would get my mother.

I remember quickly pulling out the gauze to see if there was blood on both sides. I wanted to know if the top and bottom teeth had been pulled (it never occurred to me that the blood would soak through anyway). The dentist came back with my worried mother, assured her that all had gone well, that FOUR teeth had been pulled (my preference; if we were going to do this, let’s get rid of all of them) and that I would heal quickly. I couldn’t eat much for a day or day, needed to rinse with a special solution, but it was really easy.

And I got Barbie’s ballerina outfit as a special treat for being such a good patient! I really wanted that outfit.

Original Barbie ballerina outfit with booklet description.

In a few years, I would still need to be in braces, head gear, and all the other accoutrement. But this was a start.

I was gifted an unsafe, flimsy, and frankly ugly aluminum highchair purchased with green stamps.
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I helped Mom lick S&H Green stamps and put them in many, many books, but I have no memory of what she traded them in for. As I scanned the Internet, some thermoses looked familiar, so perhaps she traded them for those and the matching cooler, which would be used at Memorial Day picnics at a local park with family friends. But that is just a guess.

My husband was a much-traveled management consultant for most of his working life, so had millions of airline miles, which we converted to tickets, and years ago, through Hilton Grand Vacations, we bought a fractional ownership of a unit at the West 57th Club in New York City. If we choose not to use it, we convert the usage points to Hilton Points and have stayed at various hotels in London throughout the years for free. That was very useful, since David has lived there for eight years, and now of course, we have a granddaughter there, so visit multiple times a year.

But the source of a few wonderful gifts at home during my teen years from my dad came from “points”. I have no idea what was the source of these “points”, how he acquired or accumulated them but I do know that the rewards were great.

I took Home Ec in 7th and 8th grade, learning basic cooking and sewing skills. Dad was so impressed that, using those magical “points”, he got me my own Singer Sewing machine when I was in 8th grade; one that looked something like this.

At school, our teacher threaded the machine and I made a really nice, lined, burgundy wool skirt that I wore for years. I wasn’t as handy at home, as I never really learned all the functionality of the machine. I did, however, make outfits for my Barbie dolls representing the North and South when we studied the Civil War in 8th grade. That was a fun, interesting project that I presented to the whole class (I based my patterns on descriptions in “Gone With the Wind”).

Barbie dressed in my creations – navy blue for North, what used to be green for South (it has faded in the intervening 56 years).

The best, most useful gift was a three-piece set of Hartmann luggage that was my High School graduation gift. In the Featured photo, from 1973, you see me sitting on two of the three pieces. They consisted of a large and small “pullman” suitcase and a large hanging bag. They were all made of leather and lasted for years. They had zipper pockets inside, along with individual lined zipper bags, which I still have.

plastic-lined zipper bags came with each of the pullman suitcases – still useful, if somewhat ragged

I asked for Sapphire Blue, but Dad could only get Peacock Blue, so I settled (not a huge sacrifice). That was one of the downsides of the program. There seemed to be limited availability with some items.

Hartmann is a great, well-made brand and I was thrilled with the luggage, though as the years passed and I became a more frequent traveler, I learned of the delights of a soft-sided suitcase, and eventually, luggage with wheels attached. But that Hartmann luggage served me well for years and years. Dad’s points were well-spent. I only wish I knew how he earned them and what the source was. He took that mystery to his grave.

But for a long time, being an oblivious sort of person, I, um, sort of forgot about it.
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We were now very lost, and out of time.
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I inadvertently found myself in the business of selling hot merchandise.
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