I suppose I owe it all to Watchdog! If I hadn’t
tuned in and accidentally caught the item complaining about problems with the new Psion 5
I might never have met my new love – and how dull my life would be!
I had been trying to find a way to free myself from having to
sit in front of the computer screen to write. I’ve always done my best thinking and
writing lying in bed – not a problem in the days of pen and paper. Letters to
friends, writing my lectures, keeping my Journal, just talking to myself were all
experiences made for curling up with a good fountain pen. I never fell for the allure of
the typewriter, but once I started taking the computer seriously inspiration deserted me.
I sat cold and upright in front of the screen, bereft of the comforting warmth of the bed.
And then I saw it, the answer to my prayers: Anne Robinson was
holding what looked like a small notebook and people were complaining that it printed off
too many pages all at once. I began to listen. What was this? Had I heard correctly? Was I
dreaming? Where could I find this slice of magic? I grabbed my pen …..
Once on the scent I was as dogged as any bloodhound! I combed
catalogues, phoned computer shops, trawled the Internet. Yes, this really did look good;
my dream could come true. I really could lie in bed and write on my PC!
So far so good. But this, far from being the end of my quest
proved to be just the beginning: I needed to know much more before I could make a
decision. The Psion 5 was not the only choice: there was the series 3;3a;3c; there was
1Mb;2Mb; there was backlit and non-backlit; and there was mysterious but crucial software
called PsiWin if I wanted to connect to the PC. I needed a degree just to make my choice.
And then fate intervened, and my PC crashed! Now I was totally
lost, I couldn’t even plug into the Newsgroups to collect my scraps of information.
My mind turned to other things as the price of repairs mounted and I tried to suppress
computer withdrawal symptoms. But the gods were secretly smiling on me: I discovered that
the engineer who came to sort out the PC had an old Psion 3 for sale. I could experiment
without needing an overdraft!
And - serendipity! – it arrived on my birthday too.
It was love at first sight.
At this point maybe I should confess: I have always been a
Gadget Girl. I was an early and fervent devotee of the Sony Walkman in the days when it
was considered to be a strange and antisocial device. I was the original Filofax Freak
– for years my life was held within its leather covers. But Electronic Organisers,
laptops, even the run-of-the-mill PC, had passed me by. So perhaps I was simply ripe for a
new affair, ready to fall for a new gadget. Opening the hinged cover was all it took.
The engineer showed me how to turn it on and off, and left me
to it. With no manuals and just the onboard help pages for navigation I found my way
around. My husband got used to one-sided conversations as I vanished into PsionWorld. I
was enchanted! I could programme it to do the job of my alarm clock – my address book
– my spell-checker – my calculator! And it could remember everyone’s
birthday (reminding me well in advance); it would alert me to record my favourite TV and
radio programmes; it dialled telephone numbers for me. All of this, and it was a
word-processor too.
PC restored, I plunged back into the fray. I uncovered a whole
universe out there of passionate Psion owners and users. There are Websites full of advice
and helpful hints; there are official sites and those made by devoted amateurs; there are
no fewer than twelve Newsgroups vigorously debating and exchanging ideas.
By now it was Christmas, and any attempt to contact Psion Plc
was pointless. I would have to wait until the long holiday break was over to find out if I
could really connect to my PC using my little old Psion (so old, I was told, that it was
called the ‘Classic’). So I took my courage in both hands and posted my first
ever message to a Newsgroup, asking for help. What a friendly bunch PsionPeople are:
suggestions and helpful advice popped into my Emailbox from as far away as Denmark. Back
on line, armed with new Web addresses, I pointed my mouse and clicked.
To my astonishment, there were sites full of freeware and
shareware programmes ready to download and install to enhance my magical little machine.
For the Psion, it seems, has its own computer language. It is possible to write programmes
for it in OPL – and hundreds do. There are route-maps to help plan your journey;
money managers; games – oh, so many games! There are old arcade-style games; card
games; word games; strategy games and brain-teasers.
As I looked through this vast array of goodies it became clear
that I really needed a more up-to-date machine – nobody was writing programmes for my
old Psion 3; and anyway, it didn’t have enough memory to hold them.
Addiction is inexorable. My ideas were beginning to expand. I
wanted more – more space, more Mb, more versatility – ALL of the interesting
shareware programmes for the 3a/3c. Conversation began again with my patient spouse, if
fretting about January Sale Bargains and the Best Deals On The Web classifies as
conversation. Every spare moment was spent demonstrating the wonders of this little
machine – and bemoaning its limitations. Missionary-like, conversation slowly led to
conversion – my husband began picking it up and walking around with it ‘just to
try it out, try it on for size’. It made persuasion easy: if I got a new 3c, then
………
But it was only Boxing Day. In PsionWorld January Sales, I
discovered, don’t begin until January! Worse – not until 5 January, when at 9.00
am, tense, sleepless, cursing the longest first week of the year in the history of
Januaries, I placed my order. Exhausted but triumphant I fell back into bed. I was going
to be the proud parent of a spanking new 2Mb backlit 3c with all the connections. I’d
ordered the next-day courier delivery service: no hanging about now, no expense spared!
By noon the next day the parcel
had arrived. I began to unpack slowly, savouring every moment, every sensation. This
machine was encased in a bright fresh yellow-and-white box, with matching manual. A whole
book to help me! Then, nestling shyly beneath the manual, a modest oblong: grey, so dark
as to be almost black – my new Psion. Gently I lifted it up. An almost velvety feel
to the rubber-coated casing. The heady smell of the new. Holding my breath, I opened the
hinge of the casing, admired the delicacy of the keyboard, the elegance of the design.
Ahh!
Batteries installed, I switched on and the gentle green
luminosity of the backlight brought the screen to life. As I tapped in my first tentative
words a soft click accompanied each touch of the keys, keys so responsive to the slightest
pressure that I kept making mistakes as I trembled with excitement!
And now it is some three weeks since those first magic moments.
Has time diluted the passion? Has familiarity begun to breed contempt? Oh no, quite the
reverse: the passion seems to grow. Every day some new and wonderful capability opens like
a flower before me. Why, only yesterday I found I could load and read whole books!
Sympathetic readers will not be surprised that my first text is Alice In Wonderland.
I wonder idly how I ever lived before I loved my Psion. There
is ‘BP’ and ‘PP’ – Before Psion and Post Psion – and it is
getting increasingly difficult to remember BP.
Maybe now, as a fully-fledged
Psion bore, I can understand those doting parents who proudly show the latest photos and
detail the latest achievements of their darlings. Maybe now I will be more compassionate,
less critical. I mean, I just can’t imagine life without my Psion – the prospect
fills me with panic.
And what of Anne Robinson? Does she know what she has done, the
magnitude of her impact? I think not. She will sleep easy in her bed as I lie in mine in
the early hours of this morning, typing my confession into the soft green glow of the
screen. I am beginning to come to terms with the changes in our family life. We are a
two-Psion family now, with all the complex relationships that implies.
And yes, my 3c does have a name – but you don’t
really expect me to tell you that, do you? Some things are private, you know!
By the way, do you think I can claim child allowance?
