My IBM Dream - Chapter 2: T-squares and some...

I went to Don Bosco Technical Institute, Makati (DBTI) for all my pre-collegiate schooling. For those of you who don’t know DBTI, it was the first educational institution that instilled technical classes for the youth apart from excellent education as early as 1^st year high school.

During freshman year, we were taught how to use computers, how to design houses and furniture, how to operate machine tools, repair cars, create circuit boards, it goes on.

We were taught how to write the infamous “Hello World” program and basic arithmetic programs in the 1^st quarter of freshman year in our computer class.

Programming starts out with understanding what logic is and how logic is the basic element of good programming. I always finished 1^st in our exercises. In fact, 80% of my classmates copied my programs and passed it off as their own.

Come sophomore year, we were challenged by our computer teacher to create mid-complex programs such as calculators with hexadecimal functions, mathematical value converters, games such as Pacman and Tetris. It was really fun.

Before the sophomore year ended for any DBTI student, he has to take a technical examination. This technical examination basically determines what your forte will be come junior and senior year. The results also state the technical shop (your major) you will end up in for the 2^nd half of your high school life in DBTI.

The majors (Shops) were as follows:

1. Computer Shop – where I want to be…
2. Industrial Design Shop – my second choice… I’m an artist you know…
3. Electronics Shop – circuit boards and gizmos… Wow!
4. Electrical Shop – well, kind of ok… but I like electronics better
5. Machine Shop – good thing I didn’t end up here or else I’d have foul odor
6. Automotive Shop – I don’t want to be a grease monkey!
7. Refrigeration and Air-conditioning Shop – oh come on!!!

I took the test. I felt I aced it. I know I did.

Results came a few weeks later and it was announced to the class. I was so happy and audacious because I knew my class adviser would say I’m for Computer Shop. Names were linked to shops… Some of my classmates smiled, many were saddened, a few were eyes open and opted to face the music (Refrigeration and Air-conditioning Shop, oh come on!!!)

Then my adviser called out my name, and said “Industrial Design!” I smiled.

Wait... Did I hear that right? Industrial Design… Shucks!

After the call-out, I immediately approached my adviser and pleaded my case. I mentioned to her that I believe I did a hell of a great job in the exam and I demanded a recount (forgive me for my passé line).

He said, it wasn’t whether I did great in the exam. It was how I answered the exam that pointed me more of the artist/designer type rather than the logic-driven applications developer. But, she said, she’ll try to do something about it.

Well, the school year ended and no notice came.

The next calendar school year started and the first thing I did was buy a new t-square and more mechanical pencils and drafting pens…

My IBM Dream - Chapter 1: the beginning

IBM - XT (eXtended Technology)
Processor: Intel 8088 @ 4.77 MHz, Memory: 128KB ~ 640KB, Operating System: IBM BASIC / PC-DOS 2.0
Released to the market: March 8, 1983

I remember that same summer. I used to hang out at my cousin’s (ironically the second Mike in this short story) house every summer. He was blessed with having the most advanced gadgets there was to find in the market because his mom was a top executive in a local bank. Anyway, where was I? Well, he had an IBM XT. It was kick-ass because we grew tired of playing Atari (bad graphics… 2-bit… Imagine a basketball game that had players taller than the basketball hoop).

There was this large black cardboard thing that you place inside a slot in the machine for you to start up the machine. And then after a minute, you replace it with another black cardboard thing. When the blinking cursor comes up, you type in [dir] and press [Enter]. You select a game to play from the list it gives you by typing it down and pressing again. Patience is extremely needed but it pays off because we had tons of games to choose from. There was the ever popular “Pacman”, the gruesome “Battle Tank”, the adventurous “Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?”, and our favorite, “World Olympics”, to name a few.

We’d play games from the moment I’d get there until my parents pick me before dinner time. It was loads of fun.

One time, I arrived at Mike’s house and he wasn’t in his room yet. I wanted to start playing with the games on the machine already, so what I did was turn it on, inserted any random black cardboard thing I could find and waited for the games to load.

I typed in [dir] and pressed [Enter]. I then noticed that each and every letter I typed in it would return "Disk boot failure"… What the heck is “Disk boot failure” anyways?

I turned off the machine. I turned it on again and I then tried a different black cardboard type of thing and did the whole process altogether. The same thing happened again.

I’m really perspiring heavily now. Yikes! Did I destroy the machine? What did I do? I just did exactly what Mike did every time. I’m definitely dead.

A few moments after, Mike enters his room. I point to the machine and tell him everything I did and what had happened. Then he said that I used the wrong diskette. So that’s what it’s called, a “Diskette”. He quickly took out the one inside the machine and replaced it with one under a pile of “Diskettes”…

He tried to run the machine, but, it returned the same message as when I tried it out. I’m really dead. I killed the machine. I killed our toy.

I just sat there. Dumb founded. “I’m dead”. I said to myself.

Well. That week we were not allowed to use the machine for any games. Uncle Willie (Mike’s father), we destroyed it and it can only be used for typing from now on.

Mike hated me for this.

Well, little did I know, Mike was the only one allowed to use the computer and he used it secretively or when I’m not around, until one time I made a surprise visit and caught him playing “World Olympics”…

What a cheat!

Well, it was his anyway and I cannot argue for his dad not allowing me to use it again.

Mike eventually asked his dad if I could play with the computer again. Well, he said yes to Mike, only if I was under Mike’s supervision. So we played, with the computer all summer. We bought many more games which needed a whole diskette all in itself. It was fun times.

Until eventually, the computer broke again and Mike’s dad scolded us both for over-using the computer for games, when it was really meant to help us type up assignments and other stuff like that. Mike’s dad added in a jokingly way “This boy destroyed it again eh. Tsk tsk…”

Well ironically now I’m in I.T. and every time a relative or friend needed help with computers or any electronic devices, they’d call me up to try to fix it, especially Uncle Willie. Quite ironic alright!

P.S. please do not use this entry as proof that my cousin Michael and I used pirated copies of games back in the 80’s. Believe me, we never knew the difference... Well, as if we even cared…

My IBM Dream - Prelude

It was 5:45pm. Twenty one years ago, an eight year old boy was playing in the street with other kids just in front of their house when he notices a huge white van park in front of his friend’s (Mike) house. Mike’s parents and Mike enter the van with tons of luggage. Mike opens his side of the van’s window just enough to peek a bit and show his gloomy face.

The eight year old boy runs home as the van carrying one of his childhood friends drive away.

As the eight year old boy opens the door, he shouts out to his mom…

Eight year old boy: “Ma, where is Mike going? Why does he have many bags with him?”

Eight year old boy’s mom: “Well, Michael’s dad was given a job to work in the U.S. and their whole family can come there and live with him.”

Eight year old boy: “Eh, why does he have to go with them? Can’t he stay in their house?”

Eight year old boy’s mom: “No he can’t. They sold the house already.”

Eight year old boy: “Ay… Can I go to the U.S. too ma?”

Eight year old boy’s mom: “Of course you can. You study hard and when you graduate college, you should work for IBM just like Mike’s father. Promise ok. So you can bring us to the U.S. with you.”

Eight year old boy: “OK. I promise.”

I have wanted to work for International Business Machines Corporation (IBM) since I was eight years old. Sad to say until now, my IBM dream has not been realized yet...