Five years ago, Susan and I stopped by a thrift store at lunch. At the thrift store, I found a Macintosh computer. The computer was priced .99 cents, and I still couldn’t bring myself to buy it. What on earth am I going to do with yet another old computer, I thought. The lady working behind the counter read my mind. “Don’t forget, it’s half-off Wednesday,” she offered. That sealed the deal; I plunked down my fifty-cents, and brought my new (old) Macintosh back to work with me.

Surprisingly, the machine fired right up. For a couple of years I left it turned on, sitting in my cubicle. Most people simply walked past it. A few people would walk by, do a double-take, and then swing back and ask me what in the world I was doing with an old Mac in my cube. Like the other things I stack in my cube, I consider it a type of litmus test. If someone walks by my desk, sees an old computer and strikes up a conversation about it, chances are I’m going to like that person.

The problem with my old Mac was, it never did anything. It just sat there, turned on, at its boot up screen. Without a working keyboard, mouse of boot disk (I can’t complain too loudly for fifty-cents), I was never able to make it do anything.

Until today.

Apparently upstairs at work a contracting crew is removing our old cafeteria. Part of that removal involves a plasma torch and a forklift, of which the fumes of both are being pumped directly into our work area throughout the day. The smell is almost unbearable even for me, a guy whose nose hasn’t worked well in 20 years. Everyone has a headache. I suggested picking up a canary and putting it in a cage just to make sure no one dies but I think there are OSHA laws against that. The problem seems to be worse in our room than anywhere else. At some point, the decision was made to prop our door open. Our doors are so heavy that everything we put in front of them isn’t strong enough to hold the door open. Old hardware to the rescue!

At least it’s earning its fifty-cents finally.