Code Blue! My computer has cooties!

So I’m minding my own business, getting ready to work for the day. I turn on the computer and turn to the coffee making. My computer is in the kitchen, I find this is just so convenient when I need a cup of coffee, or want to check e-mail while I’m making dinner. Besides that, I can easily swivel my chair, roll a few feet and forage through the refrigerator with out ever leaving my seat.

I’m grinding the beans when I glance back at the screen to see how close I am to lift off. I am alarmed to find a message that doesn’t belong there. Something about Microsoft wanting to inspect and fix something or other which may have been damaged by a power outage. I’m scanning my own files to recall a power outage and realize the thing is ticking! It’s asking me to accept or decline in the next 20 seconds or it goes off automatically. The only problem is I’ve spent 19 and ½ seconds reading the screen and trying to figure out why that Windows flag is not the right color. Kaboom! Off it goes and I see it’s deleting!

Code Blue! I dive across the kitchen and hit the power off and shut her down, not knowing for sure if this will really help or not. What the heck- now if I turn her on what happens? Madre de Dios! I try to crush the panic rising in my gut. I’m not successful. I start running around the house screaming to myself, code blue! code blue!, while I search for my old issue of Psychology Today that has the great article on a new field of psychology.

There are actually psychologists who specialize in working with people who are experiencing separation anxiety from their computers when they are involuntarily unplugged. Turns out, they experience the 5 stages of grief identified with the loss of a loved one. I’m thinking I might need to call one of the people on their list of experts.

Meanwhile I’m cussing the software makers and the damn psychos who find it entertaining to plant things that wreak havoc on the internet. It appears I’ve skipped the first stage of grief - denial- and jumped directly to the second stage, anger. I try not to take it personally, I know it’s just chance, luck of the draw, but I’m pissed anyway. Why don’t these people channel their energy and intelligence into curing cancer or solving the age old riddle of why Twinkies have a half life longer than Krypton? (and by the way, if we know that energy is never destroyed, only changes form, where the heck are those bits of Twinkie going?) Why do these people have to f**k with the internet, and by extension, my computer?

I’m not having any luck finding that magazine and I return to the kitchen and the first stage of grief - denial.

Maybe it wasn’t a bug, maybe it was Microsoft doing something, I mean, sometimes it’s hard to tell, these machines are always doing something when you are not looking. I know that because I read Michael Crichton’s novel “Prey”. I don’t leave my computer running when I’m sleeping anymore. And I leave a night light on.

Maybe I should turn the computer back on and take another look. So I do and sure enough the message comes up again. The bomb is re-loading its self and I panic again. This time, however, it does not take me 19 and ½ seconds to read the screen so I click on deny.

I thought about my computer use and the last thing I opened before I shut down last night. A letter from a friend. I wondered if it was possible I got cooties from her? I called and asked her how her computer was running, but she had not been on line that morning. I tried calmly explaining the situation and urged caution when she went to fire it up, not even sure that caution would work.

My friend, noting the anxiety in my voice promptly went into action in my defense. She just happened to be in a church and she went right to stage three of grief, which is bargaining, for me. She said “call you right back” and hung up. She dropped to her knees, said ten Hail Marys, sprinted to the alcove and lit a candle asking Holy Mother Mary to intervene on my behalf.

She called me back and assured me that our Devine Mother was standing at my right hand ready to assist. I thought that possibly I should offer something up, you know, the other part of the whole bargaining thing, so I did. Can’t tell you what it was, it’s kinda like a birthday wish when you blow out the candle, if you share your wish it won’t come true. I said my thanks and promised my friend an update later in the day.

Then I started pacing around the kitchen, chanting WWJD? WWJD? WWJD?
No, not that J, I’m referring to my friend Jim. Jim is one of my Mensa certified type genius friends, and a really great guy. He also happens to be very skilled when it comes to computer related issues, he was the one who taught me how to add memory, change out drives, search effectively, stuff like that, and the guy does not panic. Seriously, he doesn’t panic.

One time we were driving to Santa Fe to ski and the transmission started to go on his truck. Me, I would have hyperventilated. But Jim, he was cool as the proverbial cucumber, he just took an exit off the highway, coasted into the dealership, which happened to be right off the exit (maybe he’s a lucky guy who does not panic), gave them the keys and a credit card and asked them if he could borrow a car big enough to put our skis in. Twenty minutes later we were headed up the mountain, skis stuffed in the back seat, and he had not even wrung his hands once.

WWJD? He would review all pertinent data, using Ockham’s Razor. Ockham's Razor is the principle proposed by William of Ockham in the fourteenth century: ``Pluralitas non est ponenda sine neccesitate'', which translates as ``entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily''. The Razor directs us to study in depth the simplest of the theories relating to any question, meaning we usually find that the simplest explanation is most likely correct. So, I had to admit that the pertinent data pointed to the fact that my computer had a serious case of the cooties. I skipped the fourth stage of grief, which is depression, and went right on to the fifth and final stage - acceptance.

I could accept the infection theory, knowing it was most likely true. I could also accept the fact that this was beyond my skill level. What I needed was a professional! I searched my memory and realized I had recently met a professional and I had a contact that could supply me with the professional’s number. I got on the phone and made a date to drop my baby off for a tune up. I was nervous, no doubt, I mean, I didn’t really know this professional. I did have a solid referral though and sometimes that is the best you can do. It’s very similar to going to a doctor, you just hope your friend who gave you the referral was really cured and not just in a short remission.

At this point you have probably assumed that all this meandering has come about because the professional was successful. That would be correct. Less than a week later I’m meandering like crazy, making up for lost time. My computer seems happy and healthy, I've recovered from my 5 days going "cold turkey" unplugged, and I've learned to recognize the 5 stages of grief. I'm sure that will come in handy someday. I've also learned a better way to back up data, I've made a new friend who knows his way around a computer,and I learned that I do have a following, thanks to the calls I got from people asking what was up, why hadn't I posted lately. All is well in meandering-ville.