Monday, April 25, 2005

Different Day, Different Desk

Now I'm sitting at my father's desk, at his computer, in his chair, which seats me high above the desk, like a king, commanding from the mountains. I even have an atlas stretched in front of me, perched, in a manner purely discomfortable and unfamiliar, until I press the button, and the chair slowly floats down, adjusting its height. I no longer feel so powerful.

I'm using this computer because my computer died.

The fan was not up to snuff. It made noises, changed patterns. It seemed as if a gerbel lived in there, sometimes sleeping, sometimes squeaking. The other day though, it sang its last song.

I tried not to pay attention to it. I had been warned. Of course there was that time when my computer just shut off in the night. That should have given me an indication or five. And I would have never turned it off, except for the screen. The screen that was the second replacement from that pitiful place that sold me the thing. Well, this was that time that I fired it up and it explained, in its own, unemotional, straight-forward, artificially comprehensive computery way, that the CPU had gotten too hot, and to ease the energy tax of the inherently flawed fan which was struggling to keep up its pulse to maintain thermal equilibrium within the unit, its sensors calculated the risk of going on with the show, and decided that it was safer to shut her down.

So now my computer has gone to the doctor.

The doctor will open up the computer to see what we have here. There could be festering dust-balls. Luckily I have no cats, so that lessens the risk of long term damage. It is surely not a fatal condition, but something that requires a kind of induced coma, at least until we have things sorted out a bit more.

The computer will be under tonight and be woken up sometime tomorrow. I will greet the man who has agree to put the computer in his protection. Even though I don't have the papers to back up the purchase of the computer, he assured me they would look into their system to make sure the computer's viability is covered by the best warranty there is out there. This will be the second time that computer has had surgery, and now it will need another serial number and sticker to patch it up once the worst is over. I hope that once it has a new fan and gets cleaned out a bit more, it will purr quietly when it runs, and lead a semi-normal life for a computer.

It's not too late for this computer to reform its habits. You can help by sending thoughts of hope.
I know I will miss the eccentric hum that my computer gave off, quieting down once I'd tilt it over to one side or the other, shifting balance.
I will happily adopt the new quietness however when the CPU is supplyed by an unblocked aorta. There's nothing quite so sexy as a smooth running machine.


Blogger J said...

Woe is Barrett. Indeed, I feel your lament. There is nothing sexier that a smooth running machine. Let me know if I can help. I've been know to fix a comp or two in my day. ;)

4:50 a.m.  
Blogger Candace said...

You write very well; I'm sure you've heard that before. But damn you, now I'm going to have to read more. And more and more and more. I have things to do!

And I *must* know why having cats is bad for computers. Please dear lord tell me it's not too bad...I have three. Cats, not computers. *crossing fingers*

4:38 p.m.  
Blogger Diana said...

I am glad this is all happening in Canada, the best health care system in the world, eh?

6:02 p.m.  
Blogger The Lioness said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

7:22 p.m.  
Blogger sirbarrett said...

Too kind, too kind.

J -you of all people know the sexiness of a smooth running machine.

misfit -come back now y'hear

Diana -our health system is slipping through the cracks. I think it will ultimately disintegrate into private health care with expensive technology and lots of maintenance available to the rich. Everyone else will at least have someone available at the end of the line for a diagnoses. Who said anything about treatment?

Lioness -Moshe? We're talking about computers right? Most dogs are great but P is a superdog.

6:58 p.m.  
Blogger sirbarrett said...

Oh, and my computer is back. After a bit of a struggle, some expletives shared over the phone between customer rep and customer, we both found (what a surprise!) the receipts to prove that I was the computers rightful owner.

7:00 p.m.  

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