About 4 or 5 years ago, Nate wanted to start documenting his poetry electronically so that he could print them out and what have you… but he was going to need a “little help with the computer”. So I hooked him up, got him going in Word, and told him to let me know when he was ready to save the file, I’d help him with all that then. So I leave the room and hear nothing for a while.
Then a good 10 minutes later…
“MITZ!!!!!!!!!” (you would have thought he cut his damn finger off)
“I need HELP!!!!!” (still yelling)
(I walk in…
he looks at me, very calm…) “How do I get down to the next line?”