We had monitors at school, though it was a sort of Victorian survival from when they had assistant teachers called monitors. We had ink monitors to refill inkwells and we had milk monitors to pass the free school milk round. At one school we had coke monitors to refill the buckets of coke to feed the classroom stoves, but I was too young to be one.
Later, as colour TV and nature programmes became more popular, we had monitors that were lizards.
That was about it. Someone would sometimes monitor a situation but it was a word that didn’t have much place in my life or vocabulary for many years.
Then, on Saturday morning, my computer screen started to blink instead of starting. It was only twelve years old and didn’t have to do much, just show pictures, so I don’t see how it can have worn out, but that’s modern life for you.
The other word for computer screen, it seems, is monitor. That had passed me by. So had the price. Over £100! What for? Some are even more. And some of them, it seems, are two feet wide! Who needs a computer screen that size? I’m not sure it would fit on the table without considerable moving of stuff.
The biggest shock was the one at £656 – it’s 27″ 4K Ultra HD. I haven’t got as clue what that means, apart from the 27″, and I don’t need a 27 inch screen. I want a computer screen, not cinemascope, and I’m pretty sure my eyes aren’t 4K Ultra HD, so that’s just a waste.
While I was at work Julia walked down to Sherwood and bought a reconditioned monitor from the local computer shop. It has pictures on it and it cost £39. That’s all I need from a screen. She really is proof that a good wife has a price beyond rubies.
She’s the shadow on the right of the picture.