Dear Kid,

Whatever you are doing, stop it.

Right now. Stop.

Unless you’re taking an exam, in which case why are you reading this?

Whatever you are doing can wait.

What can’t wait is backing up your computer files.

“What,” I hear you asking, “is making you say this in such strong terms at this particular moment in time?”

The black screen of death is making me say this, that’s what.

As in, there I was, typing happily, working away, enjoying a fine, sunny Sunday afternoon when … nothing. I looked at the screen. It did not look back. I said, “Huh?”

The Puppy looked up from his nap. The computer did not.

So I did the normal thing and pushed the power button.

On came the computer. Mind you, it had reset itself and I lost the last 17 minutes of work, but compared to losing a whole computer, it was ok. I was calm, peace was restored in the world. I went back to work and the Puppy went back to napping.

For 6 and a half minutes.

At which time the screen went dead blank again. Rinse and repeat, I thought. So I pushed the power button.

Nothing happened.

I tried again.

Nothing continued to happen.

So I did all the normal things a person does when a laptop is causing problems. You’d have been so proud of me–I did not freak out. I unplugged and replugged everything. I took out and reinstalled the battery. I did the chicken dance.

Nothing.

“Leave it alone for a bit.” said Dad. “Eat lunch. Then try.”

This did not seem like very good technical advice, but it seemed like excellent mid-day low blood sugar level advice.

And after lunch, magically, nothing continued to happen.

I remained calm, cool, and collected.

The power remained stubbornly off.

Dad tried to turn it on.

The power continued to remain stubbornly off.

“I hate to say this, kiddo,” Dad said to me, “but I think you’re going to need to take a drive.”

Of course, by “take a drive” he meant head to MicroCenter and part with major dollars.

I sighed and followed his advice.

At MicroCenter, I first went to the place where they help you figure things out, but they were busy Having A Seminar, so I headed out to the sales floor where I found a helpful person (and by helpful person I mean a 12 year old who spoke in ones and zeros but seemed able to tolerate me). “Do you know what this is?” I asked him holding out my bag.

“A bag with a computer in it?” he asked tentatively.

“A very expensive paperweight,” I said. I explained the situation. He politely asked to look at the computer. I handed it to him, and right there in broad daylight without surgical gloves or anything, he proceeded to take all of the laptop’s insides out. He then gave me a rundown of what I had, of which I understood not a word. “Huh?” I said going back to my reliable standby.

We looked at computers. I made a selection. All was good.

Except there were some files on the paperweight that I REALLY needed. “What about Carbonite?” you ask. Yeah, well, I’m not sure it’s running quite right. I’ve been meaning to call about that.

So I walked over to the We Can Help You With That Area.

I explained the entire situation to a guy in a Snoopy tie. He sympathized. He took the paperweight. He plugged it in. Nothing. He took out the battery and tried again. Voila! Power.

Well, I thought, if it’s as simple as all that, I can leave and get what I need in the comfort of my own home.

Home I went. I took out the battery. I plugged the machine in. I pressed the power button. Nothing. I tried repeatedly. I started teaching the Puppy new words that he probably shouldn’t repeat in public. Ab. So. Lutely Nothing.

Dad took his life in his hands and suggested I return to MicroCenter. (He was right; I just didn’t want to.)

After several minutes of quality whining, I took my stubborn self and my stubborn laptop and headed back.

Snoopy-tie guy had gone home for the day (sad face) but Other Dude was there. He plugged it in. He pushed the power button. And, lo, there was power. (What IS it with these guys??)

The Summary: My ancient and wobbly computer has been replaced. It is possible to get it to turn on if you place it gently on a table and mutter the correct voodoo. And have some luck. I’ve transferred the Incredibly Important Files to a flash drive. I have a new laptop.

And no humans were hurt in the process.

So go back up your Important Files so you too can remain calm in the face of a Death Defying Crisis.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I am not a techno-geek. In fact, I have the superpower of being able to stop all technology within a five mile radius just by waking up in the morning. Eyes flutter open and all computers instantly slow down, wondering if I will turn my death-ray eyes in their direction. Those spared go back to work. Others give up their ones and zeros until I leave the state.

Not only am I the DeathStar of technology, I’m a little excessive when it comes to using my laptop. Which is to say I generally have about 43 files and 287 internet tabs open at any given time.

I get that I set myself up for problems. I get it. Really, I do.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop me from losing my mind every time my computer decides to restart (this instant! No warning! Just “Don’t close your computer or the world will implode” messages.).

I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am. I should take it in stride. But I don’t. I should wait patiently. Instead, I spend my time explaining to the laptop that it would be fine with me if it would just hurry things along and update the minimums—I’ll pass on the premium offer.

Doesn’t matter. I am ignored (as I knew I would be).

I thank my computer for still working hard, and assure it that if it would just update during the day while I’m at work I won’t feel left out. My computer says it likes having me around as it goes through its routine. I give a long explanation about the opportunity to grow and advance. My computer says that’s the definition of restarting and it’s happier when I’m around.

I point out that I’m less productive when it won’t let me work. It points out that it is ones and zeros and I can talk until I’m blue in the face and ain’t nuthin’ gonna change.

I scratch the Puppy’s head while I wait. Silently.

But in my head, I’m hoping it will just hurry up and restart.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

What I Learned from My Brief (very) Stint (Ha!) as a Television Personality.

1. Some green rooms (the place you wait before you go “on”) are green. Some are not. Some green rooms are just the corner of the set.
2. It is amazing how many different looks get crammed into a studio. (The actual number is 453 according to a recent study I made up.)
3. It’s better if you actually know the price of the tickets in case someone asks you on air. When you overstate the ticket price by 50₵, someone (Dad) is liable to say something (a LOT) about it.
4. Women who work behind the camera are teeny little people (I saw two and therefore can state this generalization with supreme confidence). Their size and gender has absolutely no bearing on their ability to do their job.
5. People who are actual TV Personalities are very good at making their guests feel welcome and relaxed. At least the ones I met.
6. The people who work behind the scenes are very good at making their guests feel welcome and relaxed. At least the ones I met.
7. No one hangs around to chat with you before the segment. No one hangs around to chat with you after the segment unless they are seriously into coffee (which means everyone hangs around afterward).
8. Being on air for several seconds does not make one instantly recognizable in Kroger. I do not have to worry about changing my name or hair color.
9. Elves do not rush over to clean up the house just because one appears briefly on TV.
10. It is better (much) to be on TV for something like the Cincinnati Coffee Festival than for many of the things people are on TV talking about.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

There I was, happily working, typing away (I was once told I type mistakes per minute faster than almost anyone else) when a small notice popped up on the corner of my laptop. It said something about the HP not working which I assumed meant that the laptop couldn’t find the old printer (we just switched printers recently) so I did the only reasonable thing and ignored the message.

Isn’t that the right way to approach all technology problems? Keep working and hope they go away.

This picture has nothing to do with the post, but it was dang cute.

The next morning, the message popped up again.

Dang, my strategy didn’t work.

More importantly, my laptop wasn’t charging. Even I know that’s not good. So I paid attention to the message and discovered it was talking about my charging cord.

Really not good.

After teaching the puppy a few new unprintable words, I unplugged my useless cord, threw it in the car, and after work I zipped over to Microcenter to purchase a replacement.

Drive home, walk dog, plug in computer, feed dog, contemplate dinner, open computer, and discover that the charger isn’t working and the same awful message is popping up.

Freak out.

Spend 8 minutes 34 seconds on hold imagining that I will have to spend $1,000 to buy a new laptop.

Hang up on “hold” and freak out again.

Throw cord, packaging, and laptop in a bag and drive over to Microcenter so I can freak out in person.

Fortunately, Geoff the Microcenter Guy was kind, patient, and adept. Which is to say he didn’t let my  freak out get in the way of reality and he solved all the world’s problems (and by “all the world’s problems” I mean he convinced the charger-thing to charge the laptop. Yay and hallelujah!

Buying a new charger cord is so much better than having to buy a whole new laptop.

Whew! And thank you, Geoff.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

There ought to be a rule.

OK, to be fair, there are all sorts of rules in the world. I’m talking about a new rule.

I’m talking about a rule that says that websites shouldn’t talk about New and Interesting Products in a way that makes people want to find out more when the New and Interesting Product in question is not yet available for sale. And doesn’t have a price posted.

The New and Interesting Product I’m referring to is called the HOVR. It’s a gizmo that lets you swing your feet while you sit at your desk. This improves health and cognitive ability according to the inventors.

Those of us with short legs have always known that swinging your feet while you’re sitting and working is fun.

And it doesn’t cost anything.

Except possibly a little dignity.

When I saw the promo, I was intrigued and thought I’d investigate to see how much such a gizmo might cost. I’m not likely to purchase one, but I was curious about how much I was not going to purchase it for.

The first site I found was happy to tell me everything (including the cost of shipping) except the price.

That was frustrating.

I searched more.

My Friend the Internet groaned a little about being awoken from a perfectly good nap, but got to work.

The HOVR costs $89. The tracker costs $33 (that part is optional). You can attach the HOVR to your desk or you can buy the stand which costs $100. You read that correctly: the stand costs more than the thing you’re buying.

There ought to be a rule.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

IF you happened to be hanging around New York City in 1904, and IF you happened to wish to go from Here to There, and IF “here” was City Hall and “there” was 145^th Street, and IF you had an extra nickel (which was real money at the time), and IF you happened to be insistent enough to push your way to the front of the line, you might have been on the first ride of the New York City subway.

Actually, probably not. The then Mayor (George McClellan) was the “engineer” of the first run at 2:35pm (no idea how they chose that time), and one can only imagine that the first ride was full of dignitaries, wannabees, journalists, other hangers-on, and 70% of The City’s homeless.

The general public (that’s who you would have been) had to wait until 7pm to turn their nickel into underground transportation. That same ride costs $2.75 today.

A slice of New York City pizza (yum) tends to cost about as much as a ride on the subway. Seriously.

FACT: The world’s oldest underground train network was opened in London in 1863.

ANOTHER FACT: The first subway in the US was built in Boston.

YET ANOTHER FACT: NYC’s subway is bigger than either London’s or Boston’s because New York.

Until 1948, subway cost a nickel. That year the fare was raised to a dime (not two nickels because those wouldn’t fit in the new turnstiles).

Five years later, the fare was raised to 15 cents. But engineers couldn’t figure out how to create a turnstile that could accept two different coins. Enter the subway token.

For 50 years, tokens were the only way to pay to ride the subway and as fares rose, tokens changed—albeit less frequently than I would have expected. There were only 5 tokens over the years (not including the commemorative ones because I don’t want to include them).

ONE MORE FACT: Rather than pay for a token, thieves would sometimes jam the turnstiles and suck the tokens out of the slots. Kind of like slurping soup, but much more disgusting. To combat this, the MTA often sprayed the slots with chili powder.

These days, one uses a MetroCard to ride the subway. Which is much more efficient and much less fun.

AND STILL ONE MORE FACT: In 2008, 44 old NYC subway cars were dumped into the ocean off of the coast Maryland to serve as an artificial reef. To date, there have been no reports of fishy graffiti.

Happy New York City subway birthday day.

Love, Mom