Rebuilding a computer that's gone bad is not easy. It takes a lot of time and better-than-average familiarity with the inner workings of a computer.
I've been trying to do that now for two days for a colleague. But this computer presents its own set of issues. The hard drive (as most do) has a "health monitor" called SMART, which warns you when you boot it that the disk drive is pretty well on its last legs, and you best get your act together and save anything worth saving to another medium before the drive goes to the big recycle center in the sky.
Rather than get into the boring details, let me just say that we're on the way to recovery. It won't be perfect, but neither will it be a total loss.
Wouldn't it be nice if we had a SMART system built into our lives that would start flashing warnings like "Death is Nature's way of telling you to slow down" when you're veering towards self-destruction? I'm not talking, necessarily, about the physical part. There's tons of physicians willing to take your case if you are interested.
No, what I mean is, I guess, a kind of seventh sense that says "you know, given your future potential, you need to start wearing a helmet when you're on your Harley." And then, just in case you missed the message, it would accompany the text crawler with an in-skull video of a morgue drawer being pulled out, with you in a torn leather jacket sleeping the eternal sleep of the un-helmeted. And you'd see that vision periodically, like every time you turned the ignition key.
I don't think it's that we're by design inclined to ignore wisdom when it confronts us. It may be more that we obey the Law of Inertia more than we know: things like to keep on doing what they're already doing. Same holds true of those asteroids that are supposed to collide with earth over the next few decades. Ditto for beliefs, biases and bodies.
Trouble is, if you obey the Law of Inertia, the Law of Averages will gitcha.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
To our daylight, the times change.
Another fine day, with another cold night. And the end of a weekend that costs us an hour of sleep.
J had an enormous cold, probably the worst one she's ever had, brought to her by the friendly infant elfin granddaughter who chose to share her infection by coughing in her grandmother's face. Or perhaps her grandmother aimed her at her face accidentally by playing a grandmother game, known as "I'll Get You to Smile Even If I Have to Let You Cough in My Face."
On the animal front, Gary the Groundhog put in two or three appearances. We had not seen him since last fall. It appears that he may have wintered under the tool shed at the back of our neighbor's garage.
Sitting out on the deck this early evening, basking in a warmth that was tempered by the occasional gust of lingering chill wind from Canada, we saw Ardie again. This time, s/he was flying just about 60 feet above the rooftops, probably wanting a closer look at the critters on the deck. A house finch landed on our handrail and cocked a worried eye at us. He took off again and landed a little farther away. Finally deciding, most likely, that we posed no serious threat, he flew down to the sunflower seed feeder to join the other boys and girls who are always there if there is anything left.
Little Red, the tiny red squirrel who valiantly dragged a snowman's scarf halfway across the yard but abandoned the effort when he saw how improbably difficult it would be to haul it up the tree, appeared late in the afternoon. After skittering about amongst connecting branches, he sat on a limb about twenty feet away to partake of something nutlike. We could hear his tiny teeth clicking against each other as he devoured whatever it was.
I finally got to meet and chat with a neighbor lady for the first time in two years. As we mused about this and that, I learned about some of the original gossip and the changes that had been made during the many years she had lived on the street. I had not realized, for example, that the demolition crews were already at work on one of our city's two hospitals.
And so, it was another fine day. Almost enough to take the mind off the global warring crises.
J had an enormous cold, probably the worst one she's ever had, brought to her by the friendly infant elfin granddaughter who chose to share her infection by coughing in her grandmother's face. Or perhaps her grandmother aimed her at her face accidentally by playing a grandmother game, known as "I'll Get You to Smile Even If I Have to Let You Cough in My Face."
On the animal front, Gary the Groundhog put in two or three appearances. We had not seen him since last fall. It appears that he may have wintered under the tool shed at the back of our neighbor's garage.
Sitting out on the deck this early evening, basking in a warmth that was tempered by the occasional gust of lingering chill wind from Canada, we saw Ardie again. This time, s/he was flying just about 60 feet above the rooftops, probably wanting a closer look at the critters on the deck. A house finch landed on our handrail and cocked a worried eye at us. He took off again and landed a little farther away. Finally deciding, most likely, that we posed no serious threat, he flew down to the sunflower seed feeder to join the other boys and girls who are always there if there is anything left.
Little Red, the tiny red squirrel who valiantly dragged a snowman's scarf halfway across the yard but abandoned the effort when he saw how improbably difficult it would be to haul it up the tree, appeared late in the afternoon. After skittering about amongst connecting branches, he sat on a limb about twenty feet away to partake of something nutlike. We could hear his tiny teeth clicking against each other as he devoured whatever it was.
I finally got to meet and chat with a neighbor lady for the first time in two years. As we mused about this and that, I learned about some of the original gossip and the changes that had been made during the many years she had lived on the street. I had not realized, for example, that the demolition crews were already at work on one of our city's two hospitals.
And so, it was another fine day. Almost enough to take the mind off the global warring crises.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Delight come and we wanna stay home.
Was that a day!
With the temperature soaring into the Fahrenheit of warmth, and the sun blazing down with only minimal pollution to stop it, the back of winter was broken today. Lovers were strolling down the streets in short-sleeved shirts and tattoos, while motorists' elbows appeared once more on the left side of their cars.
J and I sat out on the deck for the first time since winter began. The birds were beginning their spring rituals of alternately singing and fighting for territory. After a while, Ardy flew over. Shortly after that, Ardy-Two followed in his trail. Most spectacular was the persistent pecking of the pileated woodpecker who decided to put on a show for us in the trees in the back lot.
The sound of the motorcycle was again heard in the land. Harley a day goes by without it once spring comes. And yet, we're early. Officially we're still a couple of weeks away. Nevertheless, we savor every beautiful day that does not mandate the closing of double-paned windows and the locking of storm doors.
So too the incredible realization that THERE ARE NO BUGS OUT HERE!
Summer is beautiful in its own way, but this few weeks of early spring allow the spirit to revive without the droning and piercing of insect wings and mouth parts. It is possible to eat outdoors without ingesting unwanted extra protein supplements.
More subtly, I guess it's the realization that it can only get better: that soon the annoyance of having to don two coats and mitts and the occasional tuque will give way to the ease of exiting without extra drapery.
We were meant to live this way.
With the temperature soaring into the Fahrenheit of warmth, and the sun blazing down with only minimal pollution to stop it, the back of winter was broken today. Lovers were strolling down the streets in short-sleeved shirts and tattoos, while motorists' elbows appeared once more on the left side of their cars.
J and I sat out on the deck for the first time since winter began. The birds were beginning their spring rituals of alternately singing and fighting for territory. After a while, Ardy flew over. Shortly after that, Ardy-Two followed in his trail. Most spectacular was the persistent pecking of the pileated woodpecker who decided to put on a show for us in the trees in the back lot.
The sound of the motorcycle was again heard in the land. Harley a day goes by without it once spring comes. And yet, we're early. Officially we're still a couple of weeks away. Nevertheless, we savor every beautiful day that does not mandate the closing of double-paned windows and the locking of storm doors.
So too the incredible realization that THERE ARE NO BUGS OUT HERE!
Summer is beautiful in its own way, but this few weeks of early spring allow the spirit to revive without the droning and piercing of insect wings and mouth parts. It is possible to eat outdoors without ingesting unwanted extra protein supplements.
More subtly, I guess it's the realization that it can only get better: that soon the annoyance of having to don two coats and mitts and the occasional tuque will give way to the ease of exiting without extra drapery.
We were meant to live this way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)