History on parade

I hear tell the first Apple / ever built is being auctioned off (and, amazingly enough, it ain't through eBay.) This kinda makes me wonder, cause I was pretty sure the first one ever made was on display at the Boston Computer Museum. Maybe it was just one of the Apple /s. Looked like a computer built inside those smooth, well-worn wood blocks you had to play with in Kindergarten.

Also included for your viewing pleasure at the Boston Computer Museum (among with other poorly-kept collectibles and memorabilia) is Woz's blue box, which almost landed him in deep trouble with certain authority figures. Yep, it's blue, all right.

What would you do with an Apple /? I guess it's gonna languish in a museum after its purchase. But is that really fair? Hell, no. I'd buy that computer just to hook it up and turn it on and play with it. Put it through its paces, see what it can do. Try to get a feel of what it was about this computer that paved the way for the future. Then I'd want to do something cool with it like run Adventure on it and stick it in the entry foyer of my house, or just use it to scare the cats.

And if it broke, oh well. But I hear these puppies are bulletproof.

I'm going to confess a bit of an odd habit here; I listen frequently to the Howard Stern show in the mornings. In the afternoon, I listen to NPR, so it all sort of balances out, really. (Just don't ask me to listen to Dr. Laura or even Delilah, both of whom scare me and for entirely different reasons.) I've discovered I listen to about 25% of Stern's japes while the radio is on; the other 75% of the time I'm trying to ignore his fart humor and comments made purely for the shock value. Stern's a terribly fascinating individual, even when he's whining, and I enjoy trying to figure out exactly why he's saying some of the stuff he says.

Anyhow, today's morning show involved some of the most interesting radio I've ever had the pleasure of listening. Upon learning that one of his favorite whipping boys (bucktoothed Gary "Baba Booey" Dell'Abate, the show's producer) once sent a videotaped grovelling session to a girlfriend who had just dumped him, Stern immediately started to offer Gary money to play the videotape on the air. Solely for the purpose of humiliating him, from Howard's point of view.

You'd think any practical person would refuse the offer, no matter how lucrative. But Howard said he'd raise $10,000 for Gary's tape, chipping in a few thousand. The show's other regulars, including den mother Robin Quivers and Jackie "Jokeman" Martling, each offered to front some cash just to watch the tape and have a laugh at their colleague's expense.

And then the phone calls started.

Random fans of the show called in to help fund Gary's humiliation, too. Folks started offering $5000 to help persuade Gary to let Howard get his greasy little mitts on the tape. Then Howard started inviting people who truly wanted to pay down to the station for a viewing; all proceeds going to Gary. Before I had to turn the car off and go into work, they had hypothetically raised over $50,000 and had even worked out a hierarchial viewing plan ($5000 or more and you got to watch the first showing of the video, anything less and you might get in during the second showing, but definitely not sit on the big couch, etc.)

And why did people want to front such outrageous amounts of cash to hear some poor schmoe who, at the time, was lovesick and willing to tell a woman the things he though she wanted to hear out of him? Several female callers to the show mentioned they hadn't actually ever heard a man in this position before and it was fascinating to them that someone like Gary would stoop to this level, especially since the tape would end up doing nothing to reunite the two. Robin mentioned people
were interested because this was real, raw emotion on the tape. Of course, Howard's reasoning was that it made Gary look like a schmuck, and therefore was worth it. "You'll be $50,000 richer!" he said to Gary at one point. "What do you care what people say to you after this?"

Of course. Money wipes away all embarassment. Laughing all the way to the bank, and whatnot.

Whatever the appeal, it sure makes good radio. There's something quite absorbing about listening to someone on the air stutter and stammer over negotiations for something that will embarass him beyond belief in less than 24 hours. Guys want to listen so they can feel glad it's not them pouring out their hearts -- one of the most heinous sins a guy can commit, apparently. Women want to listen to actually hear a guy commit this mortal sin. And me? I'll listen cause, heck. I'm already suckered into this angle, even though I'm convinced that because of the ease with which this set itself up, must have been concocted by the show staff a few weeks ago over some beers in a writer's meeting. It's just that good. Real radio.

And what if the tape sucks? Perish the thought. Howard's convinced it won't. And that's why I'm waiting to listen tomorrow. To see if it sucks. Then I'll feel better than those who paid so much money to witness such suckage.

Gary, in an interesting display of compassion, has declared he doesn't feel too comfortable taking money from mortal listeners -- bilking Howard and Robin and Jackie is A-OK (heck, it's fine by me) -- and he says he wants to donate listener contributions to charity.

Hey, Gary. If you really want to help burn this money for a good cause, I know a certain $40,000 computer that can be had. Historical and fun for the whole family.

Take care, and don't eat anything you shouldn't.