My Computer Is a Dear Friend
y leap into computing began around 1977 with a PET in a “learning” classroom. Umm. Aren’t all classrooms for learning? Anyway. What a piece of junk. It was nearly impossible to do anything with it. User friendly? Yeah, that would not happen until the 90s. As technology evolved, computers became a more significant part of our lives. Then, a miracle. The Internet.
I now use my computer to talk to friends, pay bills, write, draw, share pictures, read, watch endless videos, shop, sell, learn, explore, and get news. At work, I use a computer to simulate circuits, organize data, communicate, store files, and develop endless reports.
My writing journey took its very first step on a computer. It is my sentence file cabinet, primary research tool, communications hub, and marketing powerhouse. The idea of writing a book on a typewriter is now inconceivable. (Well, inconceivable is too strong of a word. My father published three ceramics textbooks with a typewriter. Hardcore!)
While writing, my computer quietly accepted all my input without judgment and printed every letter perfectly. While there were minor issues, it never let me down. Thank you, computer.
I updated the bios four weeks ago to fix a major security flaw. After the update, it worked for twenty minutes and then blue-screened. Disaster! A reboot did not resolve the issue. Damn! So, I downgraded the bios, but the damage had been done. The update corrupted the operating system, and I could not restore it despite every effort.
Fortunately, I could back up my files. Yay! Because I needed to reinstall Windows completely, I purchased a better RAID hard drive controller card. Unfortunately, it took two weeks for the card to arrive, four days to install Windows because I had to purchase a new license (even though my old license was valid) (yes, I spent hours on the phone trying to explain this), and a day to configure all the programs. I was back up and running. Yay! Yet… There was something odd. The new RAID card ran hot. Oh well, it worked.
During this outage, I could not quickly contact my online friends, entertain myself, do complex research, or write. Losing my computer depressed me, and I needed to take several walks to ease my suffering. I was genuinely depressed about an inanimate object.
When I had restored my computer to operational status, I settled back into my grove, which made me reflect on how big a part of life my computer was. I spend at least eight hours a day using it and take great care to keep it updated. I also respect my machine by not surfing to questionable places, downloading things I should not, or tweaking settings that might harm the system, which means I treat it with care and respect.
It felt so good to be reunited. And it is true. Even though my computer is only a collection of circuits, it is a dear friend. A companion more loyal than a dog, more mysterious than a cat, and certainly more exciting than a pet bunny. It invigorated my writing, and my creative side leaped into new chapters.
Disaster struck a week later. When I turned on my computer, the POST configuration screen greeted me. My new RAID controller had failed, and I could not recover a week’s worth of data. After experimenting with the old card, I discovered that the motherboard (bent pins) was damaged, which caused the overheating.
The worst part about this issue is that I caused the problem by installing the new controller incorrectly and ignoring how hot it ran. I felt as if I had betrayed a friend. How can I tell an inanimate object, “I’m sorry. I only tried to help.” My only option was to break out my checkbook and buy replacement components. I suppose in the cosmic sense, I apologized to a box of circuits.
How did I manage to survive with a broken computer? A few years ago, a friend gave me his old computer because he had upgraded to a newer one, and I used it as a “test computer.” This meant I tested new programs before installing them on my “main computer” and ran programs that took forever. Yes, it was slow, had restrictive security settings, and an old version of Microsoft Word. Still, I could limp along.
Last night, I tore my main computer down and installed a new motherboard and a new RAID controller. To my great relief, the car ran normally. Yay! When the Windows logo appeared, I felt a wave of relief that nearly caused me to break out in tears.
I spent the rest of the evening restoring files and catching up on emails. This moment felt like my cherished family member had returned from the hospital in good health.
Life has returned to normal, but there was one issue. The Windows license was incorrect (even though I purchased a new serial number a week before). I spent three hours with Microsoft tech support, getting the error messages to disappear. Gahhh. Why is it so hard? I’m not a computer pirate. Stop accusing me of being one.
I now realize that my main computer is a large part of my life. I am lucky to be alive in this modern age where I may own such a marvelous machine. Thank you, computer, for all your years of service. Hopefully, you will patiently accept my flawed input for the next ten years.
You’re the best -Bill
August 21 2019 Updated July 27, 2024
I now use my computer to talk to friends, pay bills, write, draw, share pictures, read, watch endless videos, shop, sell, learn, explore, and get news. At work, I use a computer to simulate circuits, organize data, communicate, store files, and develop endless reports.
My writing journey took its very first step on a computer. It is my sentence file cabinet, primary research tool, communications hub, and marketing powerhouse. The idea of writing a book on a typewriter is now inconceivable. (Well, inconceivable is too strong of a word. My father published three ceramics textbooks with a typewriter. Hardcore!)
While writing, my computer quietly accepted all my input without judgment and printed every letter perfectly. While there were minor issues, it never let me down. Thank you, computer.
I updated the bios four weeks ago to fix a major security flaw. After the update, it worked for twenty minutes and then blue-screened. Disaster! A reboot did not resolve the issue. Damn! So, I downgraded the bios, but the damage had been done. The update corrupted the operating system, and I could not restore it despite every effort.
Fortunately, I could back up my files. Yay! Because I needed to reinstall Windows completely, I purchased a better RAID hard drive controller card. Unfortunately, it took two weeks for the card to arrive, four days to install Windows because I had to purchase a new license (even though my old license was valid) (yes, I spent hours on the phone trying to explain this), and a day to configure all the programs. I was back up and running. Yay! Yet… There was something odd. The new RAID card ran hot. Oh well, it worked.
During this outage, I could not quickly contact my online friends, entertain myself, do complex research, or write. Losing my computer depressed me, and I needed to take several walks to ease my suffering. I was genuinely depressed about an inanimate object.
When I had restored my computer to operational status, I settled back into my grove, which made me reflect on how big a part of life my computer was. I spend at least eight hours a day using it and take great care to keep it updated. I also respect my machine by not surfing to questionable places, downloading things I should not, or tweaking settings that might harm the system, which means I treat it with care and respect.
It felt so good to be reunited. And it is true. Even though my computer is only a collection of circuits, it is a dear friend. A companion more loyal than a dog, more mysterious than a cat, and certainly more exciting than a pet bunny. It invigorated my writing, and my creative side leaped into new chapters.
Disaster struck a week later. When I turned on my computer, the POST configuration screen greeted me. My new RAID controller had failed, and I could not recover a week’s worth of data. After experimenting with the old card, I discovered that the motherboard (bent pins) was damaged, which caused the overheating.
The worst part about this issue is that I caused the problem by installing the new controller incorrectly and ignoring how hot it ran. I felt as if I had betrayed a friend. How can I tell an inanimate object, “I’m sorry. I only tried to help.” My only option was to break out my checkbook and buy replacement components. I suppose in the cosmic sense, I apologized to a box of circuits.
How did I manage to survive with a broken computer? A few years ago, a friend gave me his old computer because he had upgraded to a newer one, and I used it as a “test computer.” This meant I tested new programs before installing them on my “main computer” and ran programs that took forever. Yes, it was slow, had restrictive security settings, and an old version of Microsoft Word. Still, I could limp along.
Last night, I tore my main computer down and installed a new motherboard and a new RAID controller. To my great relief, the car ran normally. Yay! When the Windows logo appeared, I felt a wave of relief that nearly caused me to break out in tears.
I spent the rest of the evening restoring files and catching up on emails. This moment felt like my cherished family member had returned from the hospital in good health.
Life has returned to normal, but there was one issue. The Windows license was incorrect (even though I purchased a new serial number a week before). I spent three hours with Microsoft tech support, getting the error messages to disappear. Gahhh. Why is it so hard? I’m not a computer pirate. Stop accusing me of being one.
I now realize that my main computer is a large part of my life. I am lucky to be alive in this modern age where I may own such a marvelous machine. Thank you, computer, for all your years of service. Hopefully, you will patiently accept my flawed input for the next ten years.
You’re the best -Bill
August 21 2019 Updated July 27, 2024
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