Hacked again — 20-year-old PC to the rescue

As I sit down to write this week’s OMOTM column, I must tell you about a few things going on with your scribe this week. Not the least of which concerns my computer. I was hacked again.

I was in the middle of writing an email to my sister on Sunday when suddenly my computer informed me that it was locked up and I should call the number provided (that number was supposed to go directly to a special Windows department that deals with just this sort of thing and they would help me).

The message went on to tell me not to turn off my computer etc., etc. Well, I’ve been here before, as most of you know, so of course I shut it down without touching or doing anything. It being Sunday, I went about my usual business while waiting for the football games to start.

I called my computer fix-it company on Monday and they came, and took my laptop away. I wasn’t too worried about writing the column as I had plenty of time. Surely I would have my laptop back in time to write the column.

If I didn’t get it back in time, I could always fire up the old PC that my wife and I built nearly 20 years ago. 

So here I am, on Friday morning, typing away on that old PC after hooking up the keyboard, mouse, and monitor. The hardest part was remembering the old password and the really hard part is trying to remember how to navigate around the 20-year-old software!

All I need to do is get to the word processor and type the column, then I’ll be ready to scan the column to the laptop when I get it back and send it to The Altamont Enterprise before my deadline. At least that is the plan right now. 

At some point, something in this PC is going to fail — hardware, software, something! Nothing is supported anymore, not for at least 15 years. Just holding my breath and typing as fast as I can.

Bug explosion

At any rate, the OMOTM arrived on time at the Middleburgh Diner and your scribe was hoping the scribe emeritus would be there, and he was!

He had emailed me regarding the “Bug” (DoodleBug) that they had on his farm. It had started out its life as a nice family car manufactured by a company called Hupmobile.

When the time came, many years later and having gone through the many different stages in the life cycle of all family cars that lived on the farm up here in the Hilltowns, it became a “Bug.” 

In the email to me, the scribe emeritus ended by saying it blew up on the road right in front of their driveway and, being made of mostly wood, it burned up. I couldn’t wait to ask the scribe what he meant by “It exploded.”

He explained to me and the rest of the table that there had been an issue with the original gas delivery system after it became a “Bug.” So there was a homemade system involving a can that held the gas, a small hole in the bottom of the can, and a line to carry the gas to the engine. 

It all worked just fine, until it didn’t. 

The scribe emeritus sure had a twinkle in his eye and a smile as he told us this memory of one of their “Bugs.” The other OFs at the table? They knew exactly what that memory was all about, and how the homemade gas tank worked and why, and they were not surprised at the rather sudden and spectacular demise of that Hupmobile/Bug.

While talking about the old cars like the Hupmobile, the conversation now turned to the 1950s and 1960s. We were asked to remember back to when it was a big deal when the new models would arrive at the car dealers.

Sometimes the dealers would hide the new cars or cover them up so they could have a big show when they first revealed them to the public. It was a big deal when we could see what the new models looked like and later, a lot of time was wasted in school as we would be looking out the windows waiting to see that new Ford or ’57 Chevy drive past.

Smorgasbord of topics

The morning conversations were not all limited to cars and Bugs. How about baseball and those Amazing Mets? They made the playoffs! On the last day, at the end of the game. Maybe we will have another subway series where they will lose to the New York Yankees in seven games. 

Diets and weight loss were discussed at one of the tables. One OF said he had a grandson who was a vegan who runs ultra-marathons, which instantly prompted one OF (who is notorious for being politically incorrect) to tell us where the word “vegetarian” came from. The OF said it is an old Indian word meaning “Bad Hunter” 

With that dubious bit of attempted humor let see who made it to breakfast on Oct. 1 at the Middleburgh Diner: Harold Guest, Wally Guest, Ed Goff, Wm Lichliter, George Washburn, Frank Fuss, Pete Whitbeck, Roland Tozer, Jim Austin, Frank Dees, Jake Herzog, Jack Norray, Dick Dexter, Gerry Cross, Warren Willsey, Russ Pokorny, John Williams (scribe emeritus), John Jaz, Lou Schenck, Herb Bahrmann, and me.