Ol’ Charcoal

“Ok I get the idea. Don’t do anything else.”

“God,” my brother audibly huffs as he flicks up his hands in defeated aggravation. Downloads will not be interrupted. And they want your undivided attention – or at least, the rest of the computer’s undivided attention.

Ah, the way we live, at the mercy of fickle electronics.

It’s good to have family around.

But it’s better to hear someone else struggle with tech for a change.

I’ve heard it said that we all send off frequencies, have a little bit of electricity buzzing through us.

Don’t worry, I’m not wearing a tin foil hat. I’m just romantically exaggerating basic human anatomy.

But I swear, some of us operate on a different frequency, and it’s one that aggravates the slightly more sophisticated pieces of digital technology – phones and computers and the like.

If you give me a computer, it will break.

I don’t mistreat it. I’ve read countless articles on how to treat it better, alternately turning it off every time I take a break (because leaving it on distresses it, maybe?) and leaving it to ‘sleep’ all the time until I’m done for the day (because the act of powering on and off is hard on it?). Depending on the going advice at the time.

I try not to subject it to extreme temperatures. And, before you ask, I stopped hitting it with a hammer and throwing it across the room years ago. But I don’t see what that’s supposed to help with.

Nope it’s gotta be something else. Something that sends the whole system haywire as soon as I touch it.

Programs will shut off with no warning and won’t turn on again. Unless someone else clicks to start it.

Yep, computers (and phones which are just tiny computers anyway) are prejudiced against some of us. They decide who they like and who they’re willing to cooperate with.

So, I’ve burned through a lot of ‘em. They die for the worst reasons, too. It’s never a virus, never some poorly-made part.

Nope, it’s a letter button that mysteriously stopped working. Which can’t be worked around because the password involves that “b”. The super smart computer expert slowly earning his retirement fund off of me can’t figure it out or work around it either.

Or it’s a computer that won’t charge, even with a new battery and charger. It also likes to shut off at random. Because who wants to be on all the time?

“Why are you being so weird, man? You’ve been checking for updates forever.” The gesture again, this time a single hand, deeper feelings of resignation.

My thoughts exactly, Bro.

I refuse to believe I’ve had a string of bad luck. And not just because others operate my computers with ease (and problems – except for that one “b” button – mysteriously disappear when someone new is watching).

No, it’s definitely malice.

Or maybe computers are like horses; they decide who knows what they’re doing and who doesn’t, and respond accordingly.

Well, that would explain the one faithful steed I’ve had by my side. Ol’ blue (ok, she’s the same charcoal black color 99 percent of laptops wear, but you get me).

This refurbished, aging dinosaur is one of few to last a whopping 15 months without a problem in sight. That’s it, old girl.

It doesn’t matter that she came with Windows 7. She’s even forgiven me for waiting until support for that several updates out-of-date, beyond-obsolete software to expire before I updated it.

Maybe it’s because a less nostalgic user would have looked past her. Maybe she recognizes I’m someone who appreciates something years past its update. (Wax tablet and stylus? Sounds like the perfect writing system to me.)

Something about Ol’ Charcoal senses a newspaper writer neither lives totally up-to-date nor cares about how old her processor is.

As long as her keyboard functions, she’s good and I’m good.

Thanks, darling. I’ll see ya this time tomorrow.