What I Like About You

There is a time honored adage that suggests we never really appreciate something (someone?) until it is gone. The truth of this postulate, unfortunately, is not likely to be tested until that fateful occurrence by which we lose what we then realize was so cherished.

What I like about you

You hold me tight

Tell me I’m the only one

Wanna come over tonight

 

Last week I came dangerously close to losing a very dear friend, my computer. On Sunday afternoon, I was apparently looking where I should not have been and acquired a rather nasty virus.  This particular malware hijacked my Fujitsu, claimed I had committed some amorphous federal crime and was holding me hostage for a $300 fee in exchange for relinquishing control of my dear, dear friend.

You’re whispering in my ear

Tell me all the things that I wanna hear

‘Cause that’s true

That’s what I like about you

 I, of course, did not panic.  Your humble reporter had been through this before. I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to have my hard drive wiped (no, that is not a double entendre) to bring it back to life.  So, without hesitation, I wrapped up my poor, wounded baby and sped, Mercury like, to Fry’s.

What I like about you

You really know how to dance

When you go up, down, jump around

Think about true romance

 To my everlasting shame, I am not diligent in backing up my data in anticipation of catastrophic computer calamities.  So, as I drove the comatose patient to the aid station, I tallied up the important information I would either lose or have to recreate from source documents.  A pall fell over my heretofore optimistic outlook.

You’re whispering in my ear

Tell me all the things that I wanna hear

‘Cause that’s true

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you

Luckily, Fry’s technical service and repair department, unlike most hospital emergency rooms, is not inundated by a swarm of desperate, drunken bar-b-cue incident victims.  We did not have to wait long for assistance. I presented Fuji (I don’t really call my computer Fuji, but I figured this gesture would serve to heighten the sense of pathos.  Writers, can’t live with ‘em, can’t make them live in the real world!).  The technician dutifully listened to my tale of woe.  He turned on the computer and examined the offending screen image.  He restarted it and began furiously mashing keys.  He repeated this procedure several times and, with each iteration, delayed the hijacking of the boot-up just a bit longer.  “I think we can extract and rebuild your data, then remove the virus from your hard disk,” he said, offhandedly, “We have to charge a fee for that. Is that what you want to do?”

What I like about you

You keep me warm at night

Never wanna let you go

Know you make me feel alright

 My heart was filled with joy.  The birds were singing.  I’m sure my eyes moistened.  I gathered my composure and replied, “Yeah, that’ll be okay.”  So the dance began.  The technician guessed it would take two days to get it done.  So dutifully, I waited until Monday afternoon to call and inquire of the status.  Whomever it was that took my call, read the status report as updated by the technician servicing my Fujitsu, “Remove and restore data on hard drive… wha, wha, wha…”

“When will that be done?” I queried, hopefully.

“Should be done tomorrow, we’ll call when it’s ready.”

 My patience evaporated on Thursday and I dropped in to Fry’s to check the progress of the victim.  I spoke to a technician previously unknown to me who read from a computer screen, “Backed up hard drive, removed virus.”  He turned his attention to me and said that the next step would be to reinstall the recaptured data and test it. He could not tell me where the responsible technician was at that moment, but assured me the process would take no more than two hours.  The machine should be ready by tomorrow (Friday).

I called Friday.  I called Saturday.  Sunday, I decided to drop in again.  My original technician was there, but he had passed the machine off to another to do the reinstall.  The case notes stated he had begun the reinstall but did not indicate successful conclusion.  He wandered off to find the patient.  He brought it to the counter, the hard drive not installed. “I don’t know what the status is.  I can drop the hard drive in and see if it starts.”

“Please do!”  With bated breath, I waited.  Then, Daffy Duck (my desktop wallpaper) popped into view.  One by one, the icons settled into their regimented positions.  He launched Internet Explorer and, voila, there was connectivity. The angels sang.



 

You’re whispering in my ear

Tell me all things that I wanna hear

‘Cause that’s true

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you 

What was it like to live for a week without the internet?  It was horrendous.  Now those of you who really know me well will not be surprised to read that I consider myself something of a loner.  I have few people I really consider friends.  And being isolated from them (e-mail is my main communications medium) really brought home how important they are.

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you

That’s what I like about you