Work right at your fingertips

MARISA O’NEIL

The Daily Pilot calls columns like this “Reporter’s Notebook,” but

just for today, let’s call it “Reporter’s Palm” for argument’s sake.

I’m writing this column on a brand-new Palm Tungsten E hand-held

computer and wireless keyboard -- the very same model many

Newport-Mesa middle school students are using, courtesy of a

technology grant.

The idea of sixth- and seventh-graders using such tiny, advanced

devices as these has generated skepticism, worry and doubt among some

folks. After all, these are just kids. What could they possibly need

Palm Pilots for?

Steven Glyer, director of educational technology for the district,

was kind enough to lend me this Palm as an experiment, to see what

these kids are learning with these days.

Technology works in mysterious ways -- for some of us more than

others -- and is seeping into nearly every aspect of our day-to-day

lives. Back when home computers came out, most of us were scratching

our heads about those, wondering what the heck we’d do with them.

At the risk of seriously dating myself, I went to high school back

when electric typewriters were state of the art, especially the ones

that had that nifty correction tape. My typing class had mostly

manual typewriters, the kind that gave you forearms like Popeye from

banging the keys so hard and an impressive right deltoid from

returning the carriage with that big, chrome lever.

Our math class had a primitive Tandy computer that used a tape

recorder in lieu of a floppy drive. The only thing anybody ever knew

how to do on it was write a simple program that made your name

magically scroll, over and over, up the black screen.

We thought that was pretty cool.

Now, the students have use of these Palm computers, which are a

far cry from even Palms of yore. They have a large, color screen,

come loaded with a word-processing program and other software and

have a wireless keyboard to write papers at home.

Students can even point the gizmos at one another and beam

information back and forth. If only my iMac could do that.

They can beam worksheets to each other, fill them in, then beam

them back to their teachers to grade. They can brainstorm using a

program that allows them to connect a series of bubbles to files,

photos or drawings. They can even load a short, homemade movie onto

them or browse most Web pages.

But the thing that really struck my fancy was that -- with the

fold-up keyboard -- this thing was like a tiny laptop computer that I

could carry in my purse.

In a practice run at my desk, this worked great. The keyboard is a

little smaller than a standard one and typing numbers involves

holding down a function key, but otherwise it’s pretty

straightforward.

As I type on this now, I can even highlight text on the screen

with the stylus and delete or move it.

Problem is, the keyboard spewed gobbledygook when I tried to use

it at school board meetings. I suspect the advanced networking in

that room must somehow interfere with the keyboard’s wireless signal.

As long as I wasn’t in that room, I could type notes or write

stories on my Palm, synchronize it with my computer and turn the

stories in to my editors.

The graffiti, shorthand symbols written with the stylus, is better

than my old Palm 105. But it’s still a little tricky, so I pretty

much stuck with the keyboard.

As an added benefit, the hand-held computer also syncs my calendar

and contacts from my desktop’s Outlook program, so I always have at

hand my sources’ phone numbers and know where my next assignment is.

Best of all, I can upload and show off adorable photos of my

20-month-old son Liam.

If I’d had one of these things in high school, I might have been a

little more excited to do my schoolwork. Heck, back then, even the

Tandy was exciting.

But now the time has come for me, like Newport-Mesa students, to

turn in my Palm. I sure will miss it.

And I still haven’t figured out how to make my name magically

scroll, over and over, up the screen.

* MARISA O’NEIL covers education. She may be reached at (949)

574-4268 or by e-mail at marisa.oneil@latimes.com.