I had to get some more RAM for my dad. He’d been getting slower for a while, but yesterday he totally locked up midway through a game of gin rummy and I had to restart him. He hates being restarted. Sulked around the rest of the night just pacing and mumbling, his slippers shuffling and swishing on the faux-wood floors in my kitchen. His kitchen. Our kitchen?
At first, Dad was elated when he passed. He’d been in poor health his whole life—bad habits have a way of compounding like interest—but he’d finally found the will to manage his diet and exercise when the Legacies were announced. He’d held out just long enough. The transition from squishy-brain to flashy-brain, as he liked to say, was seamless. He’d gotten his insurance to cover his transition into a gen-one Legacy body. It was the early days. Such things are no longer covered, of course.
If you have a good job, you can save for retirement. If you have a great job, you can live below the poverty line and throw every dollar toward saving for a gen-six Legacy, and if you live to 85 without slowing down or catching any bad luck, you might just be able to afford it. That’s what I was doing. I’m lucky to be in my position. I know it, and I don’t take it for granted, but in its own way it can make life hard. Like now.
Like I said, Dad’s needed an upgrade for some time. I’ve been putting it off; it’s going to be so freakin’ expensive. I’ll have to draw from my own Legacy account, probably have to work into my nineties.
Hard to talk to Dad about it though. When he transitioned his will still kicked in. Left me everything—the house, for example, which was paid off long ago and now isn’t even worth the original down payment. The law was different then—not really better or worse, but that kind of thing wouldn’t happen today. Anyway, what am I supposed to do: ask my dead dad to get a job? Feels ungrateful. But at this obsolescence rate, I won’t be able to afford a Legacy by the time I go. I’ll just be gone. I guess he’ll inherit whatever I’ve saved. Maybe that’s his plan.
No. I shouldn’t think like that. He’s still my dad, mostly. I’ll just suck it up and buy him the RAM. What’s that? Yes, refurbished will be just fine.
2 thoughts on “RAM”
Now that is a really dystopian future. UGHHHHHHHHH.
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You know, every time my dad calls me for tech support I’m transported to a dystopian present. Did you know it’s possible on a Windows computer to—if you drop a stack of papers on your keyboard just right—rotate your entire desktop 90 degrees?
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