Everything I Ever Needed to Know about Computers, Mom Taught Me!
For years I badgered my mother with questions about whether
Santa Claus is a real person or not. Her answer was always, "Well,
you asked for the presents and they came, didn't they?"
I finally understood the full meaning of her reply when I
heard the definition of a virtual device: "A software or hardware
entity which responds to commands in a manner indistinguishable
from the real device."
Mother was telling me that Santa Claus is a virtual person
(simulated by loving parents) who responds to requests from
children in a manner indistinguishable from the real saint.
Mother also taught the IF... THEN... ELSE structure: "If it's
snowing, then put your boots on before you go to school; otherwise
just wear your shoes."
Mother explained the difference between batch and transaction
processing: "We'll wash the white clothes when we get enough of
them to make a load, but we'll wash these socks out right now by
hand because you'll need them this afternoon."
Mother taught me about linked lists. Once, for a birthday
party, she laid out a treasure hunt of ten hidden clues, with each
clue telling where to find the next one, and the last one leading
to the treasure. She then gave us the first clue.
Mother understood about parity errors. When she counted socks
after doing the laundry, she expected to find an even number and
groaned when only one sock of a pair emerged from the washing
machine. Later she applied the principles of redundancy
engineering to this problem by buying our socks three identical
pairs at a time. This greatly increased the odds of being able to
come up with at least one matching pair.
Mother had all of us children write our Christmas thank you
notes to Grandmother, one after another, on a single large sheet of
paper which was then mailed in a single envelope with a single
stamp. This was obviously an instance of blocking records in order
to save money by reducing the number of physical I/O operations.
Mother used flags to help her manage the housework. Whenever
she turned on the stove, she put a potholder on top of her purse to
reminder herself to turn it off again before leaving the house.
Mother knew about devices which raise an interrupt signal to
be serviced when they have completed any operation. She had a
whistling teakettle.
Mother understood about LIFO ordering. In my lunch bag she
put the dessert on the bottom, the sandwich in the middle, and the
napkin on top so that things would come out in the right order at
lunchtime.
There is an old story that God knew He couldn't be physically
present everywhere at once, to show His love for His people, and so
He created mothers. That is the difference between centralized and
distributed processing. As any kid who's ever misbehaved at a
neighbor's house finds out, all the mothers in the neighborhood
talk to each other. That's a local area network of distributed
processors that can't be beat. Mom, you were the best computer
teacher I ever had.