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Paul E. Anna

Back in the early stages of the digital age (think after Macintosh but before iPod) there was a television program titled “Max Headroom.” The plot involved a journalist who regenerated himself, using computer technology, into Max, who was oddly prone to repeating himself as a result of some sort of digital dementia that short-circuited his wiring.And now get ready for Paul E. Anna to begin repeating himself, thanks to a similar fate. You see, I too have been victimized by digital dementia and short-circuited wiring and have lost, as a result of the sudden and inexplicable death of my hard drive, all previously written High Points columns. This means that you, the reader, are about to be subjected to what will inevitably be a rehash of all the great things I have found to write about over these past five years. Having forgotten what has and has not been covered in past columns, I will no doubt begin to double-up on blasts from the past that continue to tickle my fancy.Things like the “perfect pour” of Guinness stout at McStorlie’s, the joys of skiing Burnt Mountain, the changing of the seasons, the summer solstice, sitting on the lawn at the Music Festival, sushi and barbecue, the fine writing of Stewart Oksenhorn, the yearly crop of new horses on Watson Divide, old friends at the Woody Creek Tavern, new friends in Old Snowmass, trips to the post office, and so many more great things about living here are once again ripe for review. There are other things, like the late, great dog Otter, or Nick waiting at the door of La Cocina telling people it will be just “five minutes,” or Pat drawing fresh beer at the Flying Dog Brew Pub, or having coffee and reading the local rags at the Woody Creek Store, or the Red Sox triumphant rise from a 3-0 deficit to the New York Yankees, that are gone forever and will not be a part of the next generation of High Points. And though I have no written record of those events in the residue of my now dead hard drive, I will remember them fondly in the ever-softening recesses of my mind.The purpose of this particular column however extends beyond a warning to expect past drivel to reappear in future columns.Rather, the message is: BACK UP YOUR DATA!!!!Hard drives die. Your music, your photos, your skiing and running logs, your financial records, your late-night thoughts and fantasy football teams are all subject to vanishing into digital thin air. If you have not backed up all that is of import to you, do it now. As in NOW! If just one person is spared the fate of my loss, then the five years of penning this column will have meant something.Let me repeat myself: BACK UP YOUR DATA!!!!