Problem 'puters

The time had come. Always an emotional process, the delivery of a new computer was approaching. Knowing how distressing this time was going to be for the other systems in the house, I was determined that the transition was going to be as smooth as possible for all concerned. I'd set about preparing the computer room for the new arrival in a burst of cable-nest building activity; dusting with anti-stat spray, vacuuming every nook and cranny, putting away all the CD-ROMs in their cases, wiping the coffee cup rings off the desk...you know the sort of thing. "Starting as you mean to give up after the novelty has worn off", I think it's called.

I knew I'd done all the right things to make the established systems feel comfortable. I'd shown them brochures, spent a lot of time with them a few days prior to "C-day", created a new *special* area for each of them so that they did not feel excluded. This was going to be a big change for them, and I wanted to avoid jealousy and resentment, so each system received a complete overhaul and token upgrade. All to prepare the older systems ahead of time for the new arrival and make sure that they didn't feel that I expected too much of them But did this do me any good whatsoever? Nope.

Basically, some computers can be a problem. No matter what, it is always "your fault" when something goes wrong ("You have entered an invalid password"), they lie readily ("Not enough resources are available to process this command"), randomly deface and vandalize ("Your file waiting to be printed was deleted"), are completely self-centered ("The network is busy"), they resist change ("Cannot complete this function") and, despite what anyone might tell you, they never, ever grow out of it. They have no known social skills (you try randomly running a Windows program on a MAC), a complete disregard for authority ("Access is denied"), are entirely unpredictable ("A Fatal Exception 0E has occurred...") and the more you have, the worse it gets. Remember, networking is for life, not just for Christmas. They conspire to thwart you ("No more connections can be made to this remote computer at this time because there are already as many connections as the computer can accept"), refusing to cooperate at the most inconvenient times ("You have been disconnected from the computer you dialed"), and my little family of electronics is no exception.

My current main system decided to regress and behaved very badly, repeatedly refusing to connect to the Internet and rebooting of its own accord. It had already been having tantrums for weeks and I had not dismissed the possibility of a virus, but having consulted "Dr. Norton", I knew that this was not the case. I was pretty sure that the system thought it was being replaced and although I had done my best to ease those fears, the anxiety was obviously too much for it. Meantime, my second backup system's monitor blacked out, sulked and refused to operate. I sensed techno-sibling conspiracy and was very concerned about how this was going to affect my careful preparations. I didn't have to wait too long to find out.

Considering the value of the new system and how that affected the value of the contents of my house, overall, I had considered that an upgrade to my current home insurance would probably be in order. So I saw to that, two days before the new system arrived. On the afternoon of its arrival, I decided to introduce it into the house gradually. I left it, in its packing cases, in the kitchen and resolved to wait a while before I introduced it farther into the house and ultimately to the main computer room and the other systems.

This, I see now, was a mistake, as I didn't get a chance to wait. On that very same day, and in an effort Jules Verne would have been proud to fictionalize, some kind of techno pack instinct took over. The rest of the computers in the house were obviously in cahoots with the telephone line, and having tapped into my conversation with the insurance company, proceeded to link telepathically. They then fed subliminal messages to my teenage son and acted as a terribly bad influence until he succumbed to the desire for something to eat. Then, when he had finished cooking, they coaxed the already won over oven (a distant cousin) to carry on heating and heating and heating until a fire broke out in the kitchen, not three feet away from the newly insured computer. Had it not been for their inability to brainwash the smoke alarms (I suspect because they run on batteries and not the main power source in the house) then goodness knows what might have happened and what I would have said to the insurance company, although I suspect it might be a very different version of events than I have shared here.

So the next time you glance over at your computer, as it purrs quietly and blinks wanly at you, don't be fooled by the innocence of that smooth, beige exterior. Remember, we know the whole truth. Computers are the juvenile delinquents of the technological age.