Computer Blues Candlelight flickered on the mahogany desk. The attic was silent except for the sound of fingers tapping the keys of an antique typewriter. Boris stretched his arms over his head and then settled back into the swivel chair to write the final chapter of his novel. He frowned when the letters appeared faded on the paper, knowing that it was time to replace the typewriter ribbon.

Boris sighed and opened the second drawer of his desk where he kept supplies. “Writing in the dark again?” a woman’s voice asked from the shadows.

“Not in the dark, but by candlelight and by moonlight,” Boris replied, snapping the plastic spool of ribbon into his beloved typewriter. It had been a 17th birthday gift from his father. Twenty years later, his father was gone, but the typewriter remained.

“This is 1987, you know, not 1787. You can turn the lights on – and you can finish that book on one of those computers that are in the stores. We really should buy one of those and let the kids learn about the new technology too,” the woman said.

Boris sighed deeply. Why couldn’t his wife understand that he was happy with the way he did things, and he didn’t need advice about how to change? Plus, why would his 9-year-old twins need to know how to use a computer? They needed to learn practical skills like reading, writing and arithmetic, not how to fool around with some fool’s invention.

“I get my best work done with a candle flame glowing in the background, Eileen, just like the centuries of great authors before me,” Boris insisted, gesturing to the stack of papers that was his nearly finished manuscript. “I’ve written almost my entire book this way, so obviously it works for me. A computer would take up about five times the space of my typewriter and cost about 10 times as much!”

Well-acquainted with her husband’s stubborn nature, Eileen retreated into the shadows and descended the steep staircase, bumping into the wall on the way down. “This is why you need to turn the lights on!” she shouted, but the only response she heard was the sound of Boris furiously tapping away.

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At 6 a. m., Boris was startled by the incessant ringing of his alarm clock. Eileen staggered out of bed to cook breakfast for the twins before they went to school.

Grumbling under his breath, Boris hauled himself out of bed and stumbled into the shower, letting the hot water naturally wake him up for the long day ahead. Ronald, his boss, had scheduled a 9 a. m. meeting for the entire staff of the accounting office, and Boris couldn’t imagine what was so important that it required 78 employees to be present on a Monday morning.

Parking his Ford Taurus in his assigned spot, Boris grabbed his leather briefcase from the backseat and headed to the auditorium. “Good morning, and thank you all for being on time,” Ronald greeted the staff, glancing around the room at the filled seats.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called everyone here this morning, so I’ll get right to the point. There are exciting developments on the horizon here at Jensen & Jensen Accounting, the most exciting of which is this…”

Ronald paused and flipped on a projector. On the screen was a photograph of a computer. Boris held his breath, afraid of what Ronald would say next.

Ronald continued, “As of the end of this year, typewriters will no longer be used at Jensen & Jensen, and we will be transitioning to a modern office using computers exclusively. Everyone will receive extensive training in the coming months, and you will all be equipped with the tools to succeed.” Ronald smiled as though he had just announced to a group of children that the circus was coming to town.

Boris felt a cramp developing in the pit of his stomach as he listened to Ronald. He didn’t want to be trained like a monkey, and he already had the tools to succeed. His mind raced with the idea of quitting his job at the accounting firm and trying to make it as a full-time writer. The thought filled his heart with starlight and a fleeting memory of his father, even as he stared at the glaring light on the screen.

Boris closed his eyes against the blinding screen, then forced himself to look into the future. If he clung to technology that was becoming obsolete, he might soon be obsolete too.

Write a developed argument from the perspective of Boris or his wife in which you outline your attitudes toward new technology. Give reasons and evidence to support your argument.