Sitting at Tomica’s over drinks, Jozo Brandić and I are going through many of our favorite subjects—art, history, politics. “Listen,” he suddenly changes the subject at some point, “I would like to learn how to use a computer.” I start by explaining that it takes quite a bit of time to become acquainted with the technology, which is still far from friendly. “All I really want is to be able to use the Internet,” he jumps in with a big smile. I go on by telling him that he would need to start typing, as computers are still unimaginable without keyboards, which are far from easy to get used to. “Just so I can check some things I am interested in,” he interrupts again jovially. At this stage I try to explain that it is a bit difficult to get around the Internet without English, the new world language. “You know,” he grins at me with growing enthusiasm, “I would like to check things connected with art and history and maybe even politics.” At long last I give up, but I never manage even a single encouraging word, a single hopeful gesture, which would probably mean a great deal to him. By the time we wish each other good night I feel quite contrite about my appalling stinginess. So what if Jozo is just a builder?!