No Macbroke return for thirsty flower-eating gophers
It was another exciting week in Santa Barbara on Thursday, we got within 0.01” (one hundredth of an inch) of setting a new record for rainfall on that date. And, we did it with total “rainfall” of 0.01”. (That’s right, the record is 0.02”.) Friends from, eh, well anywhere else, would say that the rain did not actually fall. It simply condensed from the fog. The unexpected meteorological event had consequences:
“My computer crashed!” I noted dripping sarcasm. “Again.” I continued like a wet blanket.
“I thought you said that there would be no blue screen of death when you bought the MacBook,” Nazy replied tactfully.
“It’s not blue. And, I’ve sent a strongly worded note with the crash report.”
“Strongly worded?”
“I questioned the effectiveness of the QA department.” I replied. “I questioned the parentage of the QA department,” I thought. “In fact, I questioned the existence of the QA department.”
“Did Apple respond?”
“Of course not. They don’t expect their systems to crash, so the reports go ...”
“Nowhere?”
“Right.”
My MacBook Pro has become a MacBroke Slab during the past months. It began when I upgraded the operating system. I should have bought a new computer, but as a professional, I assumed I could get things to work. My assumptions were in err. The situation has gotten worse over the ensuing months; I expect at least one crash each day. And now...
“The trackpad doesn’t track, the shift key is on the graveyard shift and there is no return when the return key is pressed.” I said. “I’ve passed the point of no return,” I thought.
It was time to schedule an appointment with Apple. The “genius” technician took my computer, disappeared into ‘the back’ and returned with a frown. It was an ominous harbinger of impending doom.
“Have you backed up this computer?” He asked.
“Of course I’ve backed it up!” I replied indignantly. “I am a professional.”
The technician eyed me skeptically. “You may want to make a more current backup.” He suggested perceptively.
“After I do that, how long will it take to fix my computer?”
“It appears that you spilled coca cola in the keyboard...”
“Coke zero,” I corrected. “So..”
“It won’t take long to fix.”
“Great! How much will it cost?” I was mentally prepared to spend as much as $300.
“$1200 - and Apple doesn’t guarantee the work. It may break again.”
$1200!” I gasped. “I could get two new HP PCs for $1200.”
“Or half of a MacBook Pro,” the technician replied. “Your computer has no ‘return’ key.”
“And you have a no return customer policy.” I countered.
Back home, I found a spare keyboard that I had acquired when we were living in Switzerland.
“Why did you acquire the keyboard?” Nazy interrupts - well aware that it had something to do with Coke zero and a keyboard miscue.
“In Zürich, they fixed the MacBook for 300 Francs,” I replied.
Unfortunately, the spare keyboard is German. It has several extra keys (something to do with umlauts), the ‘return’ key is too small and the shift and shift lock keys on the left side are not quite correctly placed. (And the ‘smart’ keyboard mapping utility means that the engravings on top of each key do not depict the character the key will actually place on the screen.) But, undaunted, I continue to work through the challenges. And, in the interim, I have backed up my system and eliminated a lot of disk-space consuming drivel.
But enough with keyboards and technology. Last week I complained about the organic bug killer that didn’t kill bugs. Specifically the insecticide that insects laugh at. Nazy is especially unwilling to share our flowers with our six legged crawling vermin. She went to the hardware store and explained the situation:
“.. so this time I want something that will kill everything.”
“Everything, eh?” The clerk looked gleeful as he handed a bottle from ‘the back’ to Nazy. “Have him,” he said, pointing to me, “mix it. Make sure he doesn’t wear a mask. And tell him to sniff and maybe taste it to make sure it has the right concentration.”
“Excuse me!” I interjected.
“She said everything.”
“Did you make it by re-purposing chemical weapons ceased from Syria?” I asked.
“Will it kill whatever is eating our flowers?” Nazy interrupted.
“If it’s a bug, it will be destroyed. But we’re in a drought, so plants are the only place gophers and moles can get moisture.”
“Did you say gophers?” I asked wondering why the moles and gophers hadn’t feasted on the 0.01” of ‘rain’.
“I even saw a mountain lion in my backyard.”
“My computer crashed!” I noted dripping sarcasm. “Again.” I continued like a wet blanket.
“I thought you said that there would be no blue screen of death when you bought the MacBook,” Nazy replied tactfully.
“It’s not blue. And, I’ve sent a strongly worded note with the crash report.”
“Strongly worded?”
“I questioned the effectiveness of the QA department.” I replied. “I questioned the parentage of the QA department,” I thought. “In fact, I questioned the existence of the QA department.”
“Did Apple respond?”
“Of course not. They don’t expect their systems to crash, so the reports go ...”
“Nowhere?”
“Right.”
My MacBook Pro has become a MacBroke Slab during the past months. It began when I upgraded the operating system. I should have bought a new computer, but as a professional, I assumed I could get things to work. My assumptions were in err. The situation has gotten worse over the ensuing months; I expect at least one crash each day. And now...
“The trackpad doesn’t track, the shift key is on the graveyard shift and there is no return when the return key is pressed.” I said. “I’ve passed the point of no return,” I thought.
It was time to schedule an appointment with Apple. The “genius” technician took my computer, disappeared into ‘the back’ and returned with a frown. It was an ominous harbinger of impending doom.
“Have you backed up this computer?” He asked.
“Of course I’ve backed it up!” I replied indignantly. “I am a professional.”
The technician eyed me skeptically. “You may want to make a more current backup.” He suggested perceptively.
“After I do that, how long will it take to fix my computer?”
“It appears that you spilled coca cola in the keyboard...”
“Coke zero,” I corrected. “So..”
“It won’t take long to fix.”
“Great! How much will it cost?” I was mentally prepared to spend as much as $300.
“$1200 - and Apple doesn’t guarantee the work. It may break again.”
$1200!” I gasped. “I could get two new HP PCs for $1200.”
“Or half of a MacBook Pro,” the technician replied. “Your computer has no ‘return’ key.”
“And you have a no return customer policy.” I countered.
Back home, I found a spare keyboard that I had acquired when we were living in Switzerland.
“Why did you acquire the keyboard?” Nazy interrupts - well aware that it had something to do with Coke zero and a keyboard miscue.
“In Zürich, they fixed the MacBook for 300 Francs,” I replied.
Unfortunately, the spare keyboard is German. It has several extra keys (something to do with umlauts), the ‘return’ key is too small and the shift and shift lock keys on the left side are not quite correctly placed. (And the ‘smart’ keyboard mapping utility means that the engravings on top of each key do not depict the character the key will actually place on the screen.) But, undaunted, I continue to work through the challenges. And, in the interim, I have backed up my system and eliminated a lot of disk-space consuming drivel.
But enough with keyboards and technology. Last week I complained about the organic bug killer that didn’t kill bugs. Specifically the insecticide that insects laugh at. Nazy is especially unwilling to share our flowers with our six legged crawling vermin. She went to the hardware store and explained the situation:
“.. so this time I want something that will kill everything.”
“Everything, eh?” The clerk looked gleeful as he handed a bottle from ‘the back’ to Nazy. “Have him,” he said, pointing to me, “mix it. Make sure he doesn’t wear a mask. And tell him to sniff and maybe taste it to make sure it has the right concentration.”
“Excuse me!” I interjected.
“She said everything.”
“Did you make it by re-purposing chemical weapons ceased from Syria?” I asked.
“Will it kill whatever is eating our flowers?” Nazy interrupted.
“If it’s a bug, it will be destroyed. But we’re in a drought, so plants are the only place gophers and moles can get moisture.”
“Did you say gophers?” I asked wondering why the moles and gophers hadn’t feasted on the 0.01” of ‘rain’.
“I even saw a mountain lion in my backyard.”
“That was probably just Melika’s cat,” I thought.
We are looking forward to seeing Darius, who is visiting from Beirut this week. And, of course, our grandson, Thomas R. Adams IV continues to amuse and impress. Nazy, in fact, used him as a subject for her weekly painting (to see click here.) The baby, we call him Jamshid, shows up what he thinks about all of this:
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