I was out of the saddle for the past few days, once again due to my computer’s tendency to occasionally sputter, and hiccup, and even worse in this last instance, to lapse into outright electronic unconsciousness.
My computer guy, a local fellow who is quite good at reviving sickly pc’s like mine, put me on the hook from Friday night until he finally came over early Sunday evening.
He’s always apologetic and very respectful when he finally shows up; and even though, like always, he made me sit in the house all weekend waiting for him, I didn’t dare upset him with even the hint of a grumble. He’s just too damned valuable for me to alienate like that.
(But I SWEAR here and now, as soon as I find a better, or at least a more RELIABLE pc fixer dude, I’m going to give this guy holy hell along with the heave ho….
Then again, maybe not. I just MIGHT need him again, so I better not burn that bridge? Dang it…)
As a matter of fact, less than five minutes after he booted this puppy up he had the glitch nailed down to a mischief making RAM card. Windows spit out some mysterious code and he knew immediately what it meant. He turned around and told me it was a memory problem, probably the RAM. I told him that I happened to know that I had two of them in there, "So you got a 50-50 chance of picking the right one, or maybe its both," I offered.
He snaked his 90-pounds of 5-feet-nothing under my computer table like a contortionist fitting into one of those tiny transparent acrylic boxes and dismantled my pc without so much as a grunt and nary a groan. Without a flashlight, seemingly with bat-vision or perhaps with experienced fingers from having done it hundreds of times before, he dismantled wires, removed panels and screws, and within seconds pulled out and showed me the probable offending cards—so small and yet so vital.
With RAM cards in hand and before uttering another comment he intently studied their style, type, and size. He showed me the one he “knew” to be bad telling me that it was a low frequency card while the other was high, whatever the heck that means. It looked just fine to me, but he said knowingly and without a hint of doubt that it was the malefactor.
He gave me a quote and I gave him about $44 including labor—can’t beat that I guess, at least not until I learn how to fix it myself, and there’s little chance of that ever happening.
Arriving back at my house the next morning, only two hours late this time, computer man pulled a new replacement card from his magical knapsack. He slipped back into his lair under the table, fiddled around inside my pc for a few seconds and popped back out like an irrepressible ferret, pressing the on-button as he slid smoothly into my wheeled computer chair. Windows popped up as if it had never NOT done so and he turned around and grinned victoriously.
“See, all better!”
He didn’t even have to reformat or correct any corruption in my Windows. Lucky me. I HATE when that happens.
So I’m good to go, for now. My fingers are crossed.
I’m thinking back on all the parts and pieces I’ve had changed out on this thing since I bought it in 2003. That was the year I bought this now obsolete dinosaur. I needed it for all those college classes I took thanks to my Vietnam era GI Bill college benefits. The only component still original in this four year old "ancient" hunk of junk is the motherboard.
I really should just buy me a new computer, but with the cost of parts so cheap and labor even cheaper, I just keep putting it off. What’s the point? After all, I only use this thing to surf the web, answer emails, write in PhilippinesPhil, and oh, let's not forget to write causticly longwinded comments in Ed Abbey’s and Katana’s blogs et al.