Yeah, my last
computer was like that.
Old Computer
did not know a spam filter from a can of Spam.
Old Computer lived for pop-up ads, thought they were “fun” and “informational.” Old Computer was so slow that I frequently
thought our pet gerbil might have gotten in the hard drive and had babies. We do not own a pet gerbil.
When Old Computer
finally died last year, there was no pity party, no funeral, no wake. Just pure joy and immense relief. No more quirkiness of sometimes retrieving
documents and sometimes speaking only in Cambodian. No more forgetfulness when it came to where
my photos were stored or how many emails I had sent this very morning. Old Computer was dead, which meant we were
forced to get an upgrade.
New Computer
arrived, and the first thing he said was, “I do not believe in pop-ups.” Oh, it was love at first site (pun
intended).
But, even
though New Computer promised to banish the pop-ups, he was searching for my
constant approval. In the middle of me looking up
crucial things like whether or not Daryl Hannah has had plastic surgery (she has),
New Computer would say,
“I blocked a pop-up for you!”
It was like a little puppy that you had
taught to do a simple trick like fetch the ball, and even when you did not want
to play ball (like for example, if you were sleeping) the puppy would still
fetch the ball, saying,
“Look at me! I
am a great puppy! You did not even know
you wanted the ball, but guess what—I brought it to you!”
That is what
New Computer does. “There was a pop-up! I got it! No worries! You do not have to read it because I already blocked it! I am ON IT. Oh, did you want to see it? It is about rhinoplasty. There is also an ad about Botox, I can certainly let you see it if you are interested after all, because you are the boss.”
Then New Computer
sits there, waiting … waiting for me to affirm that he is a very good (very
good!) computer, such a good computer, and no I do not need to see the pop-up
that he blocked.
I wasted
more time being distracted by the band across the bottom of my screen (“Pop-up
blocked! Allow? Allow once for this site? Never allow for this site?”) just like that
annoying ticker tape that runs along the bottom of the CNN screen (“Wall Street
drops 50 points … Mets win playoffs … Radio bandit turns himself in …”). So much time wasted. I almost miss the pop-ups. They were not nearly this distracting. I just want to surf the sites I am interested in and have New Computer do his job (block the pop-ups) and not have to tell me about it every 15 seconds. Just do your damn job, New Computer.
I think I
will make sure my next computer is fluent in Karate. That way, he can give a judo chop to the
offending ads, and then step back into the shadows, Buddha-like, waiting for
the next one.
MOV
