I took my Mac Performa to the recycling center today. I hated to leave it there. That computer opened up the world of publishing to me. I wrote Sea Of Hope, Irons In The Fire, and lots of short stories on that machine. It still works, but nobody wants it. The technology is too old. Nobody needs a machine with limited capabilities--especially on the web.
But it was almost like a friend. I am sure that the hard drive is imbued with my emotions.