Microserfs

She's a good deflector. She structures conversations so that her family never arises. Like today, I brought up the subject of phoning her parents simply because it was Sunday (call me old-fashioned - or at least an AT&T consumer victim) and she said, "McMinnville, Oregon - area code 503."

"Huh?"

"North America is running out of area codes. There's only two or three left, and they'll be gone soon enough. Suburban Toronto, Ontario, just got 905. West Los Angeles got 310. Suburban Atlanta got 706. Faxes and modems are eating up phone numbers faster than anyone ever though they'd be eaten up. We've exhausted our supply of numbers."

"Your point being . . . ?"

"Only one thing - eight-digit phone numbers. Disastrous, because all new phone numbers will be like those European numbers that are eight digits long and impossible to remember."

Karla then discussed a theory called "Five plus-or-minus-two memory."

"Most humans can only remember five digits at most. Exceptional people can remember up to seven (Michael, incidentally knows pi up to, like 2,000 digits). So the chances are that phone numbers will be broken up info four and four, for easier memorization," she announced confidently.

"So are you going to call your family, or what?" I asked.

"Maybe. But let me digress a bit. Here's something interesting . . . did you know you can figure out how important your state or province was circa 1961 by adding up the code's three digits? Zero equals 10."

"No."

"It's because zeros used to take forever to go around the little rotary dial - while ones zipped along quickest. The lowest possible code, 212, went to the busiest place, New York City. Los Angeles got 213. Alaska got 907. See my point?"

Karla always comes up with the best digressions. "Yes."

"Imagine Angie Dickinson in Los Angeles (213) telephoning Suzanne Pleshette in Las Vegas (702) sometime before the Kennedy assassination. She dials the final '2,' breaks a fingernail, and cusses a shit under her breath, irritated at Suzanne for being in a location with a loser area code."

"How come you won't call your family?"

"Dan, let it rest."

* * *

Karla's learning things about me, too. Like the fact that I don't like shopping but I am a new product freak. Slap a "NEW" sticker onto an old product, and it's in my cart. The day they introduced Crystal Pepsi, I harassed the local Safeway manager almost daily until it arrived. I thought this new Pepsi was going to be like regular Pepsi, except minus the plutonium stuff that turns it brown. Then I tasted it - it was like 7-Up and Dr. Pepper and Pepsi and tap water all sort of randomly mixed and decolorized. Downer!

I guess Pepsi wishes they had John Sculley at the helm for that one.

Karla brought me a whole fun-pak of clear products - Crystal Close-up, All "free" detergent. Crystal Pepsi (I guess she didn't know my feelings about it), and Crystal Mint breath drops. In a universe parallel to ours, she no doubt brought me Crystal Bologna, too.

* * *

nCube computers

simulating the Tokyo

power grid

They left a dead escalator, chewed and torn lying on the pavement like a dead gray candy necklace.

Imagine:

In Florida the wind is rattling the chimes.

You look over the alligators and

the sea grass and water. There it is:

The rocket's burn. The best century ever.

We were here. But now it's time to go.

The past is a finite resource.

Shinhatsubai!

FRIDAY

Another Presto Log fire in the living room. Abe lectured us about his Theory of Lego. It felt like school.

"Have you ever noticed that Lego plays a far more important role in the lives of computer people than in the general population? To a one, computer technicians spent huge portions of their youth heavily steeped in Lego and its highly focused, solitude-promoting culture. Lego was their common denominator toy."

Nobody was disagreeing.

"Now, I think it is safe to say that Lego is a potent three-dimensional modeling tool and a language in itself. And prolonged exposure to any language, either visual or verbal, undoubtedly alters the way a child perceives its universe. Examine the toy briefly . . ."

We were riveted.

"First, Lego is ontologically not unlike computers. This is to say that a computer by itself is, well . . . nothing. Computers only become something when given a specific application. Ditto Lego. To use an Excel spreadsheet or to build a racing car - this is why we have computers and Lego. A PC or a Lego brick by itself is inert and pointless: a doorstop; litter. Made of acrylonitrile butadiene stryrene (ABS) plastic, Lego's discrete modular bricks are indestructible and fully intended to be nothing except themselves."

We pass the snacks. "Soylent Melts": Jack cheese and jalapenos microwaved onto Triscuits.

"Second, Lego is 'binary' - a yes/no structure; that is to say, the little nubblies atop any given Lego block are either connected to another unit of Lego or they are not. Analog relationships do not exist."

"Monogamous?" asks Susan.