Learning to love the computer, warts and all

[InfoSec News <isn () c4i org>]

http://www.miami.com/herald/special/features/barry/2002/docs/jan06.htm

Published Sunday, January 6, 2002 
Dave Barry

At least once per day, without fail, my computer, like every computer
I have ever owned, has some kind of emotional breakdown. It simply
stops working -- often when I'm not touching it -- and it puts a
message on the screen informing me that an error has occurred. It does
not say what the error is, nor where it occurred. For all I know, it
occurred in New Zealand, and my computer found out about it via the
Internet, and became so upset that it could not go on.

When this happens, I have to turn my computer off and start it up
again. When I do, my computer puts a snippy note on the screen
informing me that it is scanning its disks for errors, because it was
shut down improperly.

``But I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!'' I shout, but my computer ignores me,
because it is busy scanning its disks. You just know that if it finds
any errors, it's going to blame me, even though I don't even know
where its disks ARE.

While my computer is busy, I scan my wart. I have a wart on my right
leg. It has been there for many years. I call it Buddy. I keep an eye
on Buddy, in case his appearance changes. I've read that it's a bad
thing, medically, when a wart suddenly changes appearance. If I ever
look down and see that Buddy has turned green, or he's wearing a
little pair of Groucho glasses, I'll know it's time to take some kind
of medical action. Such as quit drinking.

But my point is that because of computer weirdness, I regularly see an
entire morning's work -- sometimes as many as 18 words -- get blipped
away forever to the Planet of Lost Data. Needless to say, I use
Microsoft Windows. I've been a loyal Windows man since the first
version, which required you to write on the screen with crayons. Every
year or so, Microsoft comes out with a new version, which Microsoft
always swears is better and more reliable, and I always buy it. I
bought Windows 2.0, Windows 3.0, Windows 3.1415926, Windows 95,
Windows 98, Windows ME, Windows RSVP, The Best of Windows, Windows
Strikes Back, Windows Does Dallas, and Windows Let's All Buy Bill
Gates a House the Size of Vermont.

My computers keep having seizures, but I keep buying Windows versions,
hoping I'll get lucky. I'm like the loser in the nightclub who keeps
hitting on the hot babe. His shoes are squishing from the piña colada
she poured on him, but he's thinking: ``She's warming up to me!''

I bring this all up because now Microsoft has a new version out,
Windows XP, which according to everybody is the ``most reliable
Windows ever.'' To me, this is like saying that asparagus is ``the
most articulate vegetable ever.'' But still, I am tempted. ``Maybe
this will be the one,'' I say to Buddy, as the two of us wait for the
disks to be scanned.

If I do get Windows XP, I won't try to install it myself. I no longer
mess with the innards of my computer. The last time I tried was a
disaster, even though I enlisted the aid of my friend Rob Stavis, a
medical doctor who is the most mechanically inclined person I know.  
Rob can disassemble and successfully reassemble a live human being. He
and I recently spent an entire weekend trying to solve an allegedly
simple computer problem. We wound up at the computer store, talking to
guys who were trained by the Monty Python Institute of Customer
Service:

US: So, what do we need to make it work?

THEM: You need a model FRT-2038 expostulating refrembulator.

US: And that will make it work?

THEM: No.

Finally, I hired a guy named J.C., who is a Microsoft Certified
Technician. He was in my office for the better part of two days, most
of it on the phone with Technical Support. It was fascinating for me,
a layperson, to hear the technical terminology that J.C. used to get
the information he needed: ``DO NOT PUT ME ON HOLD, DO YOU HEAR ME? DO
NOT PUT ME ON HO... HELLO? HELLO?? YOU (very nontechnical term)!''

In the end, J.C. solved the problem. So now I'm thinking about hiring
him again. Because the more I think about this Windows XP, the better
it looks, sitting over there by the bar, drinking a piña colada. All I
have to do is make my move, and I'll have what every guy dreams of:  
computer reliability!

I worry about who will take care of Buddy.



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