80s Spell-Checker

Ummm . . . less speller extraordinary

Speller extraordinaire

Our second son is, in many ways, like his father.

It's a good thing.

One of the most notable is his ability to spell.

Anything.

Any time.

It's a gift.

I should mention, here, that I don't have this gift.

Enough said . . .

It was the early 80's.

My brother, Blair, was working on his Bachelor's degree in Engineering.

We had a computer.

He visited.

Often.

Our computer was in our eight-year-old second son, Erik's room.

Blair would work there by the light of a single lamp.

We would hear the clicking of the keys late into the night.

Erik was supposed to be sleeping.

He wasn't.

Occasionally, the keyboard sounds would stop.

Then I would hear the brief sound of voices.

Then the clicking would resume.

Finally, Erik came out of the room, needing a drink of water.

I was tidying the kitchen.

He moved close to me.

"Mom," he whispered. "Uncle Blair can't spell."

Ah. The occasional sound of voices was explained.

Blair was consulting with his spell-checker.

It must have worked.

He went on to achieve a doctorate in Engineering.

Okay, I admit that today's sophisticated spell-checker programs are probably more efficient.

And more easily accessible.

And don't need their sleep.

But none of those programs have personality.

And certainly aren't as cute.

Progress isn't always  . . . ummm . . . progress.