Ignorance is Bliss? or something like that.

Ah yes the days of 300 baud. I was amazed. Shows what I knew.

Anyway, maybe it all about earning what you have. The pleasure and satisfaction of working to earn some of lifes extras is a feeling that those whom have never experienced it can never understand.

 

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My first was a Texas Instruments, then a vic20, then a Coleco, then a TRS80 which I then used for many years until the 486's came out. I then brought a used 286 I now have a Duron800

Ruben

 

BTW

http://coco3.com/

http://www.oddchange.com/gcc6809/

COCO emulator on line
http://coco3.com/modules.php?name=Mocha

 

Well, we still have a TRS80 in mothballs at work... used it up until a few years ago to drop programs into our punch presses. Worked pretty well until a mouse decided to make a home inside one of those giant 5 1/4" floppy drives.
The interesting thing about this thread (and CoinTalk in general) is the interaction between collectors of all ages, all sharing a common love for numismatics. Of course, things were a lot less complex when I started collecting in the early 50's. Much less emphasis on grade… just find the coin in circulation and pop it into the Whitman folder. About three or four of my friends were really into collecting, and they got me hooked. There was always plenty of friendly competition trying to get the most spaces filled. So I never was a “solitary” collector back in those days; and nowadays (with the internet and forums like CT) there are plenty of friends to share the hobby with you. So thanks for a really nice thread!

 

I actually still have the TSR80. The Motorola chip still works if not the multiport interface.

 

Great thread Joe , always knew you were younger than me but not almost 20 years younger . I got into computers late my first was an Apple with about 1meg of ram , when I used something called the ram doubler .
rzage

 

To be honest it was a really nice story but being rather old I didn't finish it. I tend to fade in and out at times reading long stories. Same with watching TV. Have to tape everything since I fall asleep during anything longer than 10 minutes. I did go back and try to read the entire post a few times and who knows, some day I may finish that.
I sort of get a kick out of people mentioning old age or anything in what I call very recent. I once was telling a kid of about 13 that when I was her age there wasn't even TV yet. She just asked what I hooked up a Atari machine to?
The avantages of being old is I was able to buy the first Red Book when it first came out.

 

Now try to imagine a time when there was no computers, no TV's, no internet, few places with A/C, no kids had cars, women seldom if ever drove a car, You sat on someone's porch and talked, you ate with the entire family and then you all gathered around a large radio and listened and pretended as to what was going on. Some families had a camera that used large roll films. Sounds horrible to a kid today with a cell phone that takes pictures and can access the internet.
And the only really bad thing about those days was all those coins and no one thought about saving them as coins or at least most didn't. I was an exception though and did save many. I still remember when those dumb Roosevelt Dimes first came out.

 

Actually - you more often starved to death and their was virtually no middle class, black people were lynched for talking to white women, food was awful, people died of dental infections, infants often died before they were three months old, typhoid was rampant, women died in child birth, and if you were really bored you carved up a Morgan Dollar into a love token.

Ah - the good ole days!

 

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/140/140-h/140-h.htm

 

Chapter 1

It was four o'clock when the ceremony was over and the carriages began to arrive. There had been a crowd following all the way, owing to the exuberance of Marija Berczynskas. The occasion rested heavily upon Marija's broad shoulders—it was her task to see that all things went in due form, and after the best home traditions; and, flying wildly hither and thither, bowling every one out of the way, and scolding and exhorting all day with her tremendous voice, Marija was too eager to see that others conformed to the proprieties to consider them herself. She had left the church last of all, and, desiring to arrive first at the hall, had issued orders to the coachman to drive faster. When that personage had developed a will of his own in the matter, Marija had flung up the window of the carriage, and, leaning out, proceeded to tell him her opinion of him, first in Lithuanian, which he did not understand, and then in Polish, which he did. Having the advantage of her in altitude, the driver had stood his ground and even ventured to attempt to speak; and the result had been a furious altercation, which, continuing all the way down Ashland Avenue, had added a new swarm of urchins to the cortege at each side street for half a mile.

This was unfortunate, for already there was a throng before the door. The music had started up, and half a block away you could hear the dull "broom, broom" of a cello, with the squeaking of two fiddles which vied with each other in intricate and altitudinous gymnastics. Seeing the throng, Marija abandoned precipitately the debate concerning the ancestors of her coachman, and, springing from the moving carriage, plunged in and proceeded to clear a way to the hall. Once within, she turned and began to push the other way, roaring, meantime, "Eik! Eik! Uzdaryk-duris!" in tones which made the orchestral uproar sound like fairy music.

"Z. Graiczunas, Pasilinksminimams darzas. Vynas. Sznapsas. Wines and Liquors. Union Headquarters"—that was the way the signs ran. The reader, who perhaps has never held much converse in the language of far-off Lithuania, will be glad of the explanation that the place was the rear room of a saloon in that part of Chicago known as "back of the yards." This information is definite and suited to the matter of fact; but how pitifully inadequate it would have seemed to one who understood that it was also the supreme hour of ecstasy in the life of one of God's gentlest creatures, the scene of the wedding feast and the joy-transfiguration of little Ona Lukoszaite!

She stood in the doorway, shepherded by Cousin Marija, breathless from pushing through the crowd, and in her happiness painful to look upon. There was a light of wonder in her eyes and her lids trembled, and her otherwise wan little face was flushed. She wore a muslin dress, conspicuously white, and a stiff little veil coming to her shoulders. There were five pink paper roses twisted in the veil, and eleven bright green rose leaves. There were new white cotton gloves upon her hands, and as she stood staring about her she twisted them together feverishly. It was almost too much for her—you could see the pain of too great emotion in her face, and all the tremor of her form. She was so young—not quite sixteen—and small for her age, a mere child; and she had just been married—and married to Jurgis,* (*Pronounced Yoorghis) of all men, to Jurgis Rudkus, he with the white flower in the buttonhole of his new black suit, he with the mighty shoulders and the giant hands.

Ona was blue-eyed and fair, while Jurgis had great black eyes with beetling brows, and thick black hair that curled in waves about his ears—in short, they were one of those incongruous and impossible married couples with which Mother Nature so often wills to confound all prophets, before and after. Jurgis could take up a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound quarter of beef and carry it into a car without a stagger, or even a thought; and now he stood in a far corner, frightened as a hunted animal, and obliged to moisten his lips with his tongue each time before he could answer the congratulations of his friends.

Gradually there was effected a separation between the spectators and the guests—a separation at least sufficiently complete for working purposes. There was no time during the festivities which ensued when there were not groups of onlookers in the doorways and the corners; and if any one of these onlookers came sufficiently close, or looked sufficiently hungry, a chair was offered him, and he was invited to the feast. It was one of the laws of the veselija that no one goes hungry; and, while a rule made in the forests of Lithuania is hard to apply in the stockyards district of Chicago, with its quarter of a million inhabitants, still they did their best, and the children who ran in from the street, and even the dogs, went out again happier. A charming informality was one of the characteristics of this celebration. The men wore their hats, or, if they wished, they took them off, and their coats with them; they ate when and where they pleased, and moved as often as they pleased. There were to be speeches and singing, but no one had to listen who did not care to; if he wished, meantime, to speak or sing himself, he was perfectly free. The resulting medley of sound distracted no one, save possibly alone the babies, of which there were present a number equal to the total possessed by all the guests invited. There was no other place for the babies to be, and so part of the preparations for the evening consisted of a collection of cribs and carriages in one corner. In these the babies slept, three or four together, or wakened together, as the case might be. Those who were still older, and could reach the tables, marched about munching contentedly at meat bones and bologna sausages.

The room is about thirty feet square, with whitewashed walls, bare save for a calendar, a picture of a race horse, and a family tree in a gilded frame. To the right there is a door from the saloon, with a few loafers in the doorway, and in the corner beyond it a bar, with a presiding genius clad in soiled white, with waxed black mustaches and a carefully oiled curl plastered against one side of his forehead. In the opposite corner are two tables, filling a third of the room and laden with dishes and cold viands, which a few of the hungrier guests are already munching. At the head, where sits the bride, is a snow-white cake, with an Eiffel tower of constructed decoration, with sugar roses and two angels upon it, and a generous sprinkling of pink and green and yellow candies. Beyond opens a door into the kitchen, where there is a glimpse to be had of a range with much steam ascending from it, and many women, old and young, rushing hither and thither. In the corner to the left are the three musicians, upon a little platform, toiling heroically to make some impression upon the hubbub; also the babies, similarly occupied, and an open window whence the populace imbibes the sights and sounds and odors. ....

 

Joe,

Your post brings back memories that I sometimes forget about. I'm 28 so I did most of my growing up in the late 80s, early 90s. I remember mowing for an old lady down the street. It took me about 2 1/2 hours to finish that yard and I was paid $7 to do it. Those were the most valuable $7 I've ever owned. Probably got spent mostly on baseball cards.

I too went door to door selling stuff out of magazines and actually did pretty well. Money's so tight these days, I don't think a kid could sell a quarter of the stuff I did if they even wanted to try. I had a paper route too and was always tipped well around Christmas.

I remember being into coins as a kid. Around 9-14 years old. There was no computer, no internet. The best info I had was from a guy I knew that lived up the street. I found out he collected coins and he showed me some of the stuff he had. Sometimes he'd give me an old issue of Coinworld and I'd take it home and sit on our screened in porch during thunderstorms and read it and read it. I'd about wear the pages out.

I remember having a lot of trouble reading them because I didn't know what all the terms were. I had no idea what 90% of the abbreviations meant. I rarely talked to the guy to ask him. He was always gone.

I dreamed of saving up enough money some day to buy some of those expensive coins. Meaning anything over $50. lol I'd get stuff for birthdays, and the holidays. Would occasionally go to a local coin shop (long gone now) with a family member. That was all the exposure I had.

We rode bikes everywhere we wanted to go as kids. Blew a lot more money at the baseball card shop than I did on coins. My friends werent into coins like I was.

I remember in about 4th or 5th grade messing around with the old Commodore 64 computers. Absolutely insane how far we've come now.

There's 1000x the competition for people's money now than there used to be, just since I was a kid. Now everybody has expensive cell phone plans to pay for. Computers to buy and upgrade. Internet service to pay for. Sky high insurance premiums. $100 tanks of gas. All the advertising, the pressure to have this or that, a computer sitting there that you can pretty much find and buy anything on. Available 24/7. It's no wonder there's so much debt.

Yeah, it was a simpler time even back in my day. lol All the technology we've got now is a double edged sword. My kid will never know the world I grew up in. We had fun being kids and I'd say the ignorance probably was bliss. lol

 

Thanks Vess for sharing. Great to hear your story.

 

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The great thing about growing up with the Calculator was that we did spend hours upon hours playing street ball, softball and such growing up, and still had the early stirrings of video games. But the best past was that our computers required our involvement. If you didn't program the darn thing, it didn't do much...

We still viewed the machines as a partnership and not a stream of entertainment..

Ruben

 

There definitely is a common bond between all of us coin collectors. A hobby should be fun, so they say, but let me tell you.... whether you are trying to compete with someone else or even yourself, there is a stress associated with that. I have never tried to compete with anyone else for a better coin or collection. But I have definitely competed with myself. Striving to purchase better and better coins..... making mistakes and then learning from them........the point is, there are some days that I haven't even bought a coin and I am stressed just thinking about buying a coin. I am sure many, if not most of you, have felt this one time or another. But there was a very small time in our lives when there was no stress at all. Just complete happiness and bliss when you sat at home looking through all those wheaties, just hoping to find the lucky cent to fill the hole. Not a care in the world whether or not it was a DDO or had a S and a VDB on the coin. (Ok, that second one might be a stretch..... because I think that was the first coin that was ingrained in my brain to look for!) LOL! But you all know what I mean. Those are the days that I miss.

 

Very meaningful post Joe. I've enjoyed reading and identifying with all of the posts. Even chapter I of Rubens novel was inspiring. The one thing that I am so thankful for is the community that resides right here on this "site". What a wealth of knowledge and information is available here at no more than a mouse click away. No longer does a person have to collect in isolation.

 

Great post, Joe. I remember getting Mercs, Buffalos and Franklins in change. The SLQ's & IHCs were hoarded moreso than the rest of the coinage. I didn't own an Indian head cent until 3 years ago. Now I'm working on a 2nd set, though I've curtailed my coin buys to US Mint sets and an occaisional $10-$30 coin.

No matter what your age you must collect, buy or trade at your own pace. One that makes it enjoyable.

Bruce

 

You hit the nail on the head! Being a YN in this time is hard, Key Dates and silver are no longer in circulation!!!

 

That was "The Jungle" BTW 0 in the Gutenberg Project..