New E-crack Pipe
This morning, as I was preparing to hit, "Post" on what I'm sure was the most brilliant piece I've ever written, the digi-goblins worked their mischief and . . . ARGH-GH-GH! ! ! ! ! ! ! The monitor went out on my laptop. Is it progress that I only cursed for an hour or 4 and didn't even take it out on any living targets. I don't think. . . Maybe I better check with Hubs. . .
The problem didn't exactly sneak up on me. I'd been seeing the signs for quite a long time. My prideful use of recycled tech makes me a master of the "Kick Here" button. I've been called, "Fonzi" for my ability to find exactly the right spot to kick, jolt or tickle to get a machine saluting its boss for a while longer. Alas, sooner or later, everything must die; even machines that have been kicked by The Fonz.
In the 46 years I have worked on computers, I have never owned a new machine. I haven't even worked on a new machine since the 486 was new. It soothes my eco-conscious to keep old tech out of the landfill for as long as possible. Today I was feeling far more impatient laziness than eco-pride, so I decided to go new this time. Configuring. . . I went ahead and invested in a graphics strength system. I still wish I didn't have to run my graphics studio on the information superhighway, but for now. . . Who knows? ? ? I decided to have the option of calibrating another on-line system.
Onward through the technoprogress. Progress is as good a name for ^it^ as any.
Replies
Congrats on the new system. I always love updating.. My computer room here in the basement looks like a computer grave yard. My sister has said to me, "Where old technology comes to die". I have so many obsolete parts laying around, its not funny. Want some?
The only thing meaner than a technophobe is a tech burnout. 46 years is long enough to have earned my harrumph rights? You want me to be impressed with what! ? ! ? Ain't you just adorable. . .
But I still have my delusions of artistry and a psychotic need for the artistic outlet. Computers are my medium.
KEEP THE FUCKING APPY KIDS AND MARKETING DEPARTMENTS OUT OF MY STUDIO! ! ! ! Quit rearranging my drawers! ! !
oh that bites, arfie. I hate when things die right in the middle of my best work. UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH! an empathetic rant indulgence. triple hugs and good luck with the new gizmos~
Thanks, but I was being sarcastic about the "masterpiece," Dreamer. Writer, I ain't and doesn't want to be. This really is a therapy journal. Emphasis on, "Therapy." Much needed therapy, at that.