The last couple of evenings I’ve been working at fulfilling a promise I reneged on ten years ago. Somewhere in the text of the second edition of Assembly Language Step By Step (which I was writing in the summer of 1999) I promised readers an ASCII chart as one of the appendices. I then plum forgot, and the book appeared in 2000 without that appendix. I still get emails from people asking me where they could find the chart, and have to reply in my best sheepish email voice that no chart exists anywhere in the book.
So this time I thought to put things right. I sat down in front of InDesign and figured out an ASCII chart format for the full 256-character extended set, and drew me an ASCII chart. For the encoding I used Code Page 437, which is what they now call the IBM PC ROM character set. Whether they could name it or not, CP437 was much beloved of DOS text-mode programmers, with all four card suits and more box-draw characters than anybody ever knew what to do with. The chart will fit comfortably (if snugly) on a single page in what we in publishing call “computer trim,” and I consider it a complete success, at least if you have good eyesight or a set of readers within easy reach.
Except…
As best I can tell, there is no encoding option available for Konsole (or any other Linux terminal emulator that I have) for Code Page 437. As close as I’ve come is IBM-850, which has fewer box-draw characters and more non-English alphabet glyphs. Of course, once you have a chart, it’s no big deal to find a new set of glyphs and sub them in, which is what I’ll be doing in coming days. In the meantime, if you have any use at all for a CP437 ASCII chart, here it is. I’ll post the one for IBM-850 when I finish it. Ten years late, I guess, but better late than never.
Stop looking, actually. He’s right here. (And that’s Mr., not Captain, thanks.) Carol was at a dog show yesterday and I blasted out 4600 new words on Chapter 6, so it was not an especially romantic day, but that’s OK; we have built romance into the very fabric of our lives together, and in a sense we do a low-key, distributed Valentine’s Day 24/7. It’s not a giddy, infatuated romance–though we rediscover a little of that now and then—but rather the steady heat that comes of knowing one another unselfishly and deeply for a great many years. (For us, that would be closing in very quickly on 40.)

I’ve been using removable storage for a long time, and five years ago
I bought them for their size, and didn’t understand the line’s gimmick until I had one in my hand: The Cruzer Skins are inside a flexible, tough plastic sleeve with an end cap of the same material. The skin and cap fit the metal body of the device very closely, enough so that if you dropped one in the sink the works wouldn’t even get wet if you pulled it out within a few seconds. (I’m guessing that they float, in fact, though I’ll let somebody else do the experiment.) You can remove the sleeve and apply a Brother-style label to the drive body, and then wiggle the sleeve back over it. This protects the label, especially if you drop it in your pocket with your car keys, as I’ve done a time or two. (Brother labels mar very easily.)










