I’ve always had poor hand-writing.

In fact, through High School, many would have viewed the tragic results of my scrawl as evidence of illiteracy. Later, in scoring a 1420 on my SAT’s, did I demonstrate that I could absorb and process information effectively (and, that SAT score, along with a determined mother [she was petitioning coaches] and an ability to run like the wind, only got me into college).

This is an area (hand writing in the event you lost track of my thinking), where, Mom had me pinned when it came to selective lack of discipline. She, like her own Mother, highly prized good penmanship, and the greatly considered thought behind it.

When I discovered PC’s while at college in 1982, I called Mom, and triumphantly advised her that soon I would not need to write, as opposed to “word process” (I later began to spend a great deal of time at the computer lab – but, writing, not coding BASIC and COBOL). I am reasonably certain, based on the evidence of subsequent dialogue, she never understood what I meant (may not have ever seen a desktop PC – and, she was gone by 1985) and, likely died thinking I meant type writing in some form or fashion; and, she found that form undignified.

As an aside… Mom wrote me notes all of my life. Typically just bits of encouragement about how proud she was of me, hearing good things about me from other mothers (seriously), and of course, running and my ambitions related to that “gift”. I would read those notes over and again – often carrying them with me for weeks.

The last one she wrote was a cryptic:

“Challenge everything and accept nothing”.

She was on morphine, and generally not paranoid. But, those words follow me daily.

Today, I still write in all capitals. This has confused even my own brilliant daughters when we visited the white board and home work.

However, I am confident that I execute the processing of information rather well, and that is reflected ably in my writing.

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork