I’m slouching catch-side at the mall, my oversized flannel snagging on my choker while Janet Jackson’s "Escapade" echoes off the neon-lit food court tiles. Through the window of the tech shop, I can see some geek on a monitor manipulating a photo of the new Hubble Telescope using that trippy Photoshop 1.0 program.
It’s wild to think all that data is zipping across the information superhighway while some suit in the news is droning on about bank pacts. I just want to kick off my Docs, ignore the HTML coding manuals, and get lost in a movie theater screening of *The Hunt for Red October*.
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