I should know better. It was, of course, my neighbor Norman, President, CTO, and (as far as I know) sole customer of the company formerly known as SoftPop Software, recently renamed SoftPopDotCom.com.

"Actually," he corrected me, "it's now SoftPopDotCom International, Ltd. We felt we had to get the Internet out of the name."

"That's great, Norman," I said. "Now can you please go away?"

But instead of leaving, he proudly held up a CD. "It's finished, it's fantastic, and it's going to revolutionize the computer industry."

"Your family's photo album?"

"Better. It's version 2005 of my industry-standard productivity suite, SoftPopDotCom Office Politics."

"2005?"

"We're way ahead of the competition. This isn't just the same old collection of terrific apps, although it has them all: our spreadsheet, Exceed, as well as PowerLunch, Accessible, Worse, and, of course, our e-mail/scheduling program, Lookout."

"That's all very fine, Norman, but no one cares about office suite upgrades, anymore. All of the important features were there by 1997."

He smiled and shook his head. "Office Politics 97 was a great product for its day. It had spelling and grammar checkers, graphics capabilities, tables, even a macro language based on Italian, but we had to move on. Earlier versions of Office Politics failed in some important ways. They didn't force users to activate their copies, and they didn't provide companies with an incentive to buy additional SoftPopDotCom products.

"But enough talk," he went on, changing the subject with a wave of the CD. "Let's look at all the cool, new stuff. Where's your computer?"

I had to think fast. "It's, um, in the shop. Repairs. An elephant fell on it."

"Gee, that's tough. Luckily I've got this notebook with me." He barged in the door and was soon up and running.

"Security is on everyone's mind these days, and no one wants the competition to read their documents. So all Office Politics 2005 programs have SoftPop's new Right-Thinking, ReadRight, WriteRight, Right-as-Rain Rights Management System. If you don't want Kyle in Accounting to read a document, Kyle in Accounting won't be able to read that document."

"That does sound interesting," I had to admit. "So if my notebook gets stolen and falls into the hands of a competitor, he won't be able to open my documents?"

"Of course he will. He's not Kyle in Accounting. To block other people, you'll need Right-Thinking, ReadRight, WriteRight, Right-as-Rain Rights Management System Professional, which you get free of charge if you put SoftPopDotCom Office Politics on a network running SoftPop SoftServer."

"So what happens when my notebook is off the network? Are the files still protected?"

"Absolutely! When Office Politics is off the server, it keeps everyone from reading the document."

"Even me?"

"Of course. But don't worry—there's a workaround. All of our documents are stored in a unique language called HTML. If the Rights Management System won't let you open a file in Exceed or Worse, you just drop it into your browser."

"Norman, maybe it's time for you to go home."

"Well, I'd have to check my date book," he pressed on, "and the best date book in the world is Office Politics' information manager and e-mail program, Lookout."

"Lookout?"

He spun around. "Where?!"

He continued as soon as he regained his composure. "Lookout has been rewritten from the bottom down. Remember how, in the past, if you clicked on a message it would appear in a panel at the bottom of the window? Now, thanks to incredible advances in computing technology…" he clicked a message in the box, "…it appears in a panel on the side. And if you want to check out a link in one of those messages…" he clicked one, "…that too appears in a column on the side. And if you want to respond to a message…"

By now the modest Lookout window had more vertical columns than a zebra at the Pantheon. I was trying to imagine why on Earth would anyone want to buy this piece of junk when he said "And just wait until you see the great spam filter."

That changed my attitude. I watched eagerly as he plugged his notebook into my DSL line and clicked the Send/Receive button. Within seconds, 28 messages appeared in his inbox. I examined them over his shoulder. "Re: That Big Investment." "Buy chimpanzees online." "Do you want huge breasts like a real man?"

"Norman," I pointed out, "all you've got here is spam."

"Well, of course. It's a spam filter."

At that point he looked up and noticed my PC sitting on a nearby desk. "Hey, I thought your computer was in the shop…you know, crushed by an elephant?"

"Oh…yeah…Well…the elephant didn't damage the case, so only the inside is in the shop."

He glanced at me with a hurt look and closed his notebook. "I guess I'll be going home, now." He unplugged everything, tucked the notebook under his arm, and headed for the door.

But the moment he stepped over the threshold, his notebook started shrieking. Soon it was shooting fireworks out of its ports. He dropped it just before it exploded.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Product activation. You're not allowed to leave a building more than once."