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Posts for the date of Thursday, February 21, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 6:04 PM |
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It happened. My computer committed ritualistic suicide. Digital Hare Kari.
Tuesday night it began acting up, serving me the blue screen of death as if it were offering me a chocolate truffle. Believe me, the blue screen of death is no delicacy. No, it is a computer’s version of a cold-water enema. A horrible, invasive procedure meant to be debasing and freeing all at once.
It hurt. I’m still walking funny.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t depend upon it for my survival. This is no glorified stereo. This is my lifeline. The loss of it would be tantamount to your office burning down.
Luckily, I’m working on manual projects at the moment (Interjection: I just poured boiling hot coffee all over myself. Ow. Now I’m wet with blisters.)
So, I beat the little bastard into submission. I won’t go into details, but the thing was running on almost a skeletal system. It worked long enough to back up my files.
Nine CDs worth of documents, music, pictures and data files. I remember backing up my first computer on ONE disk. 1.44 MB of files. Now I have over 8 gigs. Crap. I’ve become a digital junkie (spelled G-E-E-K.)
I was adventurous. I know I could whip this sucker into shape and all would be right with the world. I knew that it would take just a little coaxing. Just a little care and attention.
I spent 12 (yes 12) hours reformatting, reloading and tweaking this stupid machine. I thought I could fix it.
I was wrong. That thing fried up faster than an egg on Mercury. It is now unusable.
And now out of my hands. A professional geek is looking at it right now. At this point, after consulting with the King Geek of Maryland, I felt that we probably had the issue figured out. But I was too frustrated. If I tried the crack that thing open one more time and it refused. . . I’d be cracking it open with a sledge-hammer.
Maybe I should. I could make a stand and say to the world that I refuse to be tied to a computer. If you want to speak to me, do it in person. If you want me to work with you, come on over. If you want to send me porn, do it through the regular mail. No more “e” anything. Just my mailman and me.
I know it won’t work out that way. I’m too dependent upon machines now. Pretty soon I’ll have bio-implants running my higher functions. I’ll be a cyborg. Then, I’ll decide that I won’t need my regular body and more and I’ll make some case modifications. I’ll look like an IMAC. (Which, by the way, is to computers what the Neon is to cars.)
At least then my kids could use me to down load the new Brittney Spears album, right?
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Posts for the date of Wednesday, February 20, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 1:44 PM |
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I may be wrong, I usually am, but wasn’t there once a time when the employees of stores were required to be NICE to you? When did this trend end? When did people become so surly?
I was in a local grocery store recently. An old man asked a guy in the produce section a question. The old man was very soft spoken and quiet. All he wanted was a specific kind of vegetable. He didn’t even necessarily want the veggie right then. He wanted to know if the store carried it.
“We don’t have any” the employee bellowed. Yes, BELLOWED. Gruffly and angrily.
The old man proceeded to try to follow up his question with another, but the employee would have none of it.
“WE. DON’T. HAVE. ANY. I already told you that.”
The old man walked away while the employee looked at another worker with a “Did you get a load of that guy?” kind of look.
If the man had been rude, I would understand. But he was very soft-spoken and kind with his question. He hadn’t been pushy or accusatory.
The employee, however, was pushy. What a jerk.
Seriously, aren’t employees supposed to represent the company? Aren’t they supposed to be as helpful as possible? Should they not treat their customers with respect?
I’m finally taking a stand. I’ve had it.
I’ve begun reporting employees to the manager. I feel I deserve the ability to shop at a store without being insulted by the staff.
However, I’m fully aware that often just reporting the employee will not work. So I’m taking additional steps as well. Next time I am treated rudely, I will take the merchandise I would have purchased, hand it to the manager and explain that they just lost this amount in sales. I will even COMPLETE my full shopping trip to prove the amount I WOULD have spent.
I’m sick of it. These people are getting paid to provide a service. I’m sorry if I’m impugning upon their “personal time” by asking where the diapers are located. I’m sorry that my spending money is not their priority.
You know what? Screw the little ingrates. Next time I’m treated rudely I’m going to start yelling, “Don’t touch me there! I don’t like bananas! Stop trying to kiss me! I don’t want to smell your pet lizard!”
I wonder if that will work?
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Posts for the date of Tuesday, February 19, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 4:34 PM |
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I was up late last night working. I mean late. Really late. Really, really late. Then I had to get Kait to school and calm a fussy baby. I'm tired.
So, I'll leave you alone today to discuss the day's events accordingly.
Please leave a tip in the tip jar.
Cheese.
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Posts for the date of Monday, February 18, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 7:10 PM |
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Whew! What a weekend. I feel like I never stopped!
I took it upon myself to print everything that I’ve written that has been published somewhere. Including this site. It took me more than 10 hours, plus 90 minutes at Kinko’s copying movie reviews and what not. Needless to say, I’m exhausted.
The good news is that I now have a full color portfolio of some of my favorite work, as well as an in-depth group of . . . stuff. Yep, pretty much everything from Intercot, to Movie Review Weekly, to StreamSearch. My entire post-college history on paper.
It’s an impressive tome. I hadn’t realized that I’d worked that much. But, I guess I did. What’s most amazing, to me at least, is the sheer amount that I no longer have access to. When at StreamSearch I had written content for the site daily, not to mention thousands of movies catalogued in the database. All gone. Sigh. So is life, I suppose.
I was reading a book to Kait last night that led us on a bizarre adventure. The main character of her book was to spend the day with her Grandpa fixing a toilet. Kaitlyn, it was revealed, had never seen the inner-workings of this most special modern convenience.
This sent us on a ten-minute adventure looking at both toilets. We discussed the chain, the plunger and the thingy that actually floats on the water. It was quite fun lifting it and watching the water stop.
We then washed our hands (it is a toilet after all) only to discover the sheer lack of a towel. Therefore, it was necessary to march through the house with our hands poised like surgeons who had just washed up.
Overall, it was quite the fun adventure into Commodianland.
Gertrude refuses to sleep during the day. We’re not quite sure why. This is not to say she’s depressed, sad or cranky. Just happy. In fact, today was the first time she cried since Friday. It’s an odd feeling.
She fights and fights to stay awake. She looks like that guy in a bar after last call. Too tired to stay, to drunk to go. He just sits there, nodding off.
It would be okay if she weren’t so damn cute. But she is. So, she forces me to play with her constantly.
It’s not like she doesn’t complain. If she’s bored, she yells, “Ah!” That’s it. Demands attention. Otherwise, she’s content to lie on her back looking at stuff. Of course, so am I. But there isn’t much a child can watch that David Lynch directed. . .
She rolled over today. Four times! Clearly advanced for a three-month old. Watch out. When she takes over the world . . . she’ll demand your subservience. Are you prepared?
Just remember not to mention the drooling. It angers the young queen.
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