The Internet and me Read online

The Internet and me

  By Alex A. Lidd

  Copyright 2014 Alex A. Lidd

  One day of Simon Parker …

  I lived a pretty ordinary, routine life of a young guy had it not been for two circumstances. I was a hacker in the past and, as result, I was prohibited from doing staff that has conquered modern generation. A court decision prohibited me from using any electronic device more complex than a calculator. That meant that the World Wide Web which had penetrated and established itself in every household, was off the limits for me. To be more precise, according to the verdict, I wasn’t able to use any device which operated on a processor. That prohibition included a computer, a tablet, a smartphone and even an ordinary cell phone. It made my life to certain degree similar to the lives of my parents when they were my age. I was particularly prohibited using social media. For long-distance communication I could only use the good old telephone (the helpful invention of Alexander Bell).

  The opinion of the judge was that any electronic device connected to the Internet pose a potential threat to the society when in my hands, but at the same time my mingling with other citizens was quite admissible on certain conditions. The first condition was deprivation of any opportunity to get connected to the Internet, because the World Wide Web was where my hacker’s skills had found their fulfillment. And the second one was my obligation to do community service in the clinic treating social networking addiction. The penalty for what I’d done might have been much more severe had I not been a minor.

  But on my days off, like that Saturday, I wasn’t obliged to work at the clinic. And it was one of those days. However, I stuck to my routine waking up very early, jogging, taking a shower, having breakfast, and at eight pm I was ready for anything. That day I was supposed to buy a birthday present for Alberta (my girlfriend)’s father. I decided to raise the money for it by selling my ‘old’ PC. This wasn’t just any old machine; it was hand built by myself and my pride and joy – and was a weapon in my hacking activities. I personally selected all the hardware, starting with the motherboard and finishing with the hard disk, and checked that everything was fully compatible. And I achieved maximum efficiency from the whole system, although the PC had never worked badly, but at one particular moment it proved incredibly useful to me…

  The computer had been standing in the big open box since it was returned to me from a warehouse where material evidence was stored. The monitor, the system block, the keyboard and the mouse were separately taped up with orange tape and tags which were labelled “mat. evid.” and a case number on each. Although I was prosecuted for a crime which was carried out from Joshua’s PC, CCIA agents tried to find traces of hacking activity on my personal computer too. But they found nothing. My computer had never contained anything illegal, because the hacking programs were uploaded from special web cloud services, and the codes were written by me personally. They were meant to be used only once from any computer, which I was able to enter using the Internet, and automatically move to another web storage space after use, by means of a special algorithm. I was the only person who knew where these programs could be found and who knew the operative passwords.

  After retrieving my computer from the warehouse of material evidence, I wasn’t able to use it, because of the prohibition. My parents didn’t need it either. So it just lay in the box and took up space in my room. I realized that when I could finally switch the power button on, it would most likely be hopelessly outdated. That is why, and maybe because it was just too hard to look at it every day, I decided to sell the PC to somebody else, who could use it for what is it was designed for. A machine like that shouldn’t be left lying in the box.

  Before searching for a buyer, I needed to find out how much Sean’s present cost, so I could put a price on the computer. I didn’t want to do it on my own, so I dialled Pitt (my friend)’s number on my home telephone.

  “Hello!” I heard his sleepy voice on the line.

  “Hi, Pitt!”

  “Simon, is that you?” he wondered.

  “That’s right!” I confirmed his guess.

  “You woke me up!” This time his voice was not only sleepy, but also angry.

  “Sorry, bro! I need your help!” I said animatedly. “Let’s meet at midday at the vinyl store… you know… that one on Broadway, ‘Collibo’!”

  “Why there?”

  “I need to choose a record!”

  “Right … Simon… I forgot again that you can’t use the Internet,” Pitt said. “You know, in this day and age you can download almost everything…”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for a present for Alberta’s dad for his birthday. He likes listening to jazz on his stereo,” I interrupted the student.

  “Oh… OK. I know nothing about vinyl, but I’ll be there… anyway I don’t have other staff to do… And it’ll be a good place to take a picture for my Instagram.” He agreed and hung up.

  Several hours later we met.

  “Hi!” exclaimed the young man, seeing me cycling towards him. “Cool transport!”

  “Thanks!” I acknowledged and stopped the bike sharply just in front of him. “Hello, man!”

  After a manly handshake, we went into the store with the old-fashioned store-window, overflowing with random stuff from the past. But inside the premises I saw the exact opposite of what I had expected. Instead of ‘racks’ of gramophone records, traditional for such places, which would be classified either according to the genre, or the year they were released, and several ‘cognoscenti’, who always hang out in record stores and are ever ready to discuss any topic related to music, the whole place was strewn with boxes.. Among them the old man was sitting on a chair looking lonely and packing up the vinyl left on the last full rack.

  The old man heard us coming in, took a look at me, then at Pitt and asked, “How can I help you young people?”

  “We wanted to buy a gramophone record…,” I answered. “Is it still possible?”

  “You’ve arrived just in time,” the old man smiled, but it was sad smile. “I’m closing the store and you’ll be my last customers…”

  He gave a deep sigh and added, “If you only knew, how much has happened in this place over almost seventy years working here!”

  “Why you are closing it?” Pitt showed interest.

  “Nobody wants to listening to vinyl any more… people find, discuss and buy music on the Internet and don’t come here … Do you know what our slogan was - ‘Collibo’, the best place to buy and share!’, said the old man sadly, through constant sighs..

  “Very nice!” Pitt exclaimed.

  “Hah! I remember long queues outside this shop … Everybody asking me for advice, or for help. But now people prefer to ask Google, rather than listen to an old grumbler like me. The income doesn’t cover the rent… But why should you listen to me? What you are interested in?”

  “Honestly, I hope you’ll help us!” I replied.

  “Yeah, the courts stopped him from asking Google,” Pitt was smiling, almost laughing.

  “Shut up!” I took a quick look at my friend. “I need a present for a man who likes listening to jazz on vinyl records…”

  “Could you tell me something more specific about his tastes? Jazz is multi-faceted! Maybe you know who sings the music he likes?”

  “Unfortunately, this is all the information I have about his hobby!” I sighed.

  “Ok, don’t worry, I got it … First of all, you need a really rare record, that he hasn’t already got in his collection and, secondly, a record that will be to the liking of every jazz fan,” the old man hit the nail on the head.

  “That’s right!” I was amazed by the record dealer’s professionalism.

  “I have a record like that…” the old man
said thoughtfully and went up to one of the boxes, but then sharply changing direction he shouted out, “No, it must be …” The dealer finally went over to another box and immediately began to rummage through it. After a minute’s search, the old man exclaimed, “Here we go!”, and took the record from the box and, on the cover in big red letters was written, “Hank Mobley”.

  “It is a legendary album! You can’t find this anywhere else… I got it when I was a boy… it was my first deal. I exchanged it with my classmate, Victor Slim. I gave him a Mikey Mantle baseball card, which was a present from my dad… he wanted me to become a baseball player. After the deal was done, I rushed over here to the store. I remember it like it was yesterday. My grandfather was standing behind the counter. I showed him the vinyl… He smiled… He smiled with pride! He was proud of me. Many years ago he told me that it was the moment he decided to transfer the store to me, because he had never met anybody else so keen on music. Even my dad, when he found out about the deal, began giving me vinyl records as presents instead of baseball cards… So, when I was in your age I stood at this counter for the first time. I smiled that day… I smiled with pride! I was proud to be here, to sell vinyl… So many years have passed… I’ve been waiting for my grandson to grow up and show interest music. I wanted to pass the business on to him. He’s only twelve right now. He’s a very good boy, but he likes computers way more than gramophone records... Who could have guessed that the album which became my first deal, would also be my last deal? I’ve received many offers to sell this album, but I’ve refused all of them, because this was my very first deal. But it doesn’t make sense any more. ”

  “And how much do you want for it …?” Pitt was dying to ask.

  “And what you are going to do?” I didn’t allow my friend to finish the question. The story of old record dealer touched me and I wanted to try and persuade him not to give up.

  The old man sighed. “I devoted all my life to selling good music … I can’t do anything else… All these boxes will find a home in my garage. And this album… it’s very expensive, but you can take it for free… Records are supposed to bring pleasure to people, instead of being in consigned to oblivion…”

  “Why you are giving up and allowing new rules to put you out of business?” I was indignant.

  “What do you mean, young man?” The dealer puckered his eyebrows in amazement.

  “Have you heard of eBay?” I asked.

  The reaction on his face told me he hadn’t.

  “Ebay.com,” Pitt specified.

  “Is it something related to … the Internet?”

  “Yeah. It is an online site you could sell vinyl records on. They mustn’t be consigned to oblivion… or you either! Believe me, you can do business right from your home and use your garage as a warehouse.” I said confidently. “And there is one big advantage – no rent!”

  “But I don’t know how to use the Internet!” The old man was perplexed.

  “You could involve your grandson in the business.” I smiled. “I am pretty sure he’ll help you”

  “But I don’t even have a computer!” The record dealer had uttered his final convincing argument against the idea.

  “You offered to give me this album for free. I refuse… and offer you another deal – an exchange. I’ll give you a modern, highly efficient computer for this record. You were right to say that something which brought us so much enjoyment in the past shouldn’t be cast into oblivion now…” I said and stretched my hand out to him. “Maybe this album deal will again become the basis of your business?”

  The old man’s face beamed happiness and he was smiling.

  “Deal!” The old man declared and shook my hand.

  After explaining to him where he and his grandson could pick up the computer, we left the store with the album. I was very glad that I had managed both to help to the old man and to acquire the present for Sean. But what happened in the store, forced me to think about a lot of things. I took a bike and began pushing it along the street, while Pitt was walking nearby.

  “Why you were so kind to that old man?” my friend asked. “You could have taken this album for free!”

  “I understand him as nobody does… I’ve had a very similar experience.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m talking about the court prohibition. I can’t use the Internet and I don’t have social networking accounts … I’m kind of excluded from all that. Just like that old man. The only difference is, I didn’t do it all by myself like he did.”

  “Right!” said Pitt.

  “You know, the Internet can either present you with a new opportunity, or kick you out of the game.” I said. “In order to remain afloat that old man must realize that Google won’t give the answers by itself… one can find the answers by searching online for information provided by other people who create content to share. And he can be one of them… he can give answers… he can be part of Google. The Internet is all about people. And it is good thing to understand.”

  “Hey look, there’s a place over there where you could wrap your present!” Pitt pointed at the little store situated on the ground floor of one of buildings.

  “Right.”

  We wrapped the album there. Then we had a walkthrough the streets of New York for quite some time and talked about this and that. Several hours later I came home.

  #####

  Thank you for reading the part of the book “Exlibris: excluded from social networks”! If you like it, read the whole book!

  Also feel free to contact me - [email protected] !

  Best regards, Alex. A. Lidd!