Having moved last year I expect to be DIYing for a while yet. On the principle that a may be alive in 20 years time, possibly 30, but by then I am unlikely to care, so anything that needs doing had best be done now while I still have the inclination and time to enjoy it.
I'm getting old to read that correctly. Is is 62% alive, or
62% dead ?.
I think that was 62.5 but in old money ;-)
I was running one.
GT-Power network 050/039 The Broken Biscuit
And I think Roger missed my earlier comment about a SPARCstation 1+.
:-p
There are some in this ng that could use a dose of that :-)
Good point. I must have assumed that you joined the era of cheap PCs sooner than you did.
I'm 39.
Philip
Either (a) you are telling us porkies or (b) you are a mere spring chicken. :)
I'll be 65 in August.
Well the OP said "mess" above so I assumed part of his problem was his mail getting fragmented between different devices. But apparently not.
In what way is it a mess? Do you mean that whichever device is turned on first downloads your emails and deletes them from the server?
"Delete from server" is a user configurable setting in your email programs if you're using POP access.
Using IMAP for email saves a lot of aggro if you're using multiple devices.
Tim
I can remember when VAX/VMS brought out a new feature that allowed a record to be locked to stop multiple updaters. V1.6 I think.
I can remember when the PDP-8 got a disk operating system.
So there.
So is Homer Simpson!
Now if you asked me how old I was I would say 46.
However if you asked my Mother how old I was I am sure she would say 47 in October or some other bollocks - It's something Mothers never stop doing.
But you are in your 47th year...
Plus, added to that fact, it's "A Habit Born Out Of Hope", that mothers in general cultivate[1], that her child (yourself in this instance) will survive to enjoy the forthcoming birthday celebrations at the end of said year. It's a little bit unfair to be so dismissive of your mother's pious hope for your survival to your next birthday as to be a matter of "Just some other bollocks".
[1] Mothers carry a heavy burden of responsibility in the rearing of their offspring to a stage of independent adulthood. A premature, infant or juvenile death, would be regarded by most mothers faced with such tragedy as some sort of failing on their part no matter how little they could have done to prevent such a tragedy in the first place. It's only human nature to feel some sense of guilt in such circumstances, even in cases entirely beyond the limits of the best of parental protection.Parents, mothers particularly, will be protective of their infant offspring so it should come as no surprise that a mother will develop a mindset that regards age as a half filled glass rather than as a half emptied one, hence the tendency to expressions such as "He'll be 47 this October" when it comes to the question of the age of any of their offspring. :-)
Its a trait that people seem to apply to themselves when over a "certain age" (which is slightly woolly in its definition but is typically 75+). Ask a question "how old are you?" and you will be told how old they will be next birthday.
Our attitude to forthcoming birthdays keeps changing as we get older. Initially, it's one of impatience to reach the early milestones of maturity such as 5, 13, 18 and 20 or 21. Thereafter, we're old enough to see the next milestones, 30th and successive decadal birthdays more as reminders of our own mortality and impending demise.
Eventually, once we've come to accept the inevitability of our mortality, typically from age 50 onwards to, as you posited, 75+, our next birthday becomes more and more a matter of 'defiance', hence the response to that question tending to be couched once again in terms of our age at next birthday.
A newborn baby isn't said to be one year old on his next birthday. Babies' ages are quoted in days, weeks or months, even when they are nearly two.
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