I've been spending a good deal of my days and nights interacting with hard drives since about 1991. Got my first 'laptop'in '92. A weird procession of machines ever since.
As I type, I am transferring the files of a recovered hard drive from 2013 (with contents back to 2009) into a new MacBookPro. "About 6 minutes to go". I have a half dozen or so, more or less obsolete machines stuffed into the deep corners of closets and so forth. Some might boot if I ever found the right old power cord... Some, like my 2000 edition iMac are liable to just smell like sizzling wires while strange lights flicker briefly on the screen.
In "About 2 minutes" some poorly organized old traces of my life will become more or less recoverable on my current personal system. Not sure if I'll ever take the time to dig through it to see if there's anything worth retaining from these 74 GBs.
As the blue line slowly crawls from left to right indicating the transfer of this data from my portable hard-drive enclosure, I thought I'd float these questions past the UrbanHonking cohort:
Have you been dragging dusty, obsolete totems of your digital life through your domestic spaces of recent decades?
How lost do those memories feel? Can you visualize some of what's on there?
Is the resignation that personal data is lost part of the abstract personal quality called 'maturity'?
Or are you the kind of person who has been vigilant against the dimming and incompatibility of your data across new platforms?
Are you cloud hoarding?
A metallic "Pling" just indicated that my memory transfer is complete.