One delightful evening I am playing bridge “on-line” with my favorite partner and we have just completed a “round” (two hands). The display of the hands remains on the screen until the next round begins, usually a minute or two. Three or four minutes go by and nothing has happened so I grab my mouse and intend to ask what’s happening. My mouse does not move the “cursor” as it should – the screen is frozen and all attempts to resuscitate fail. I am reduced to the dreaded “hold down the off button” on my computer and try to reboot. I push the “on” button and I hear the computer fan going but my screen remains a deadly black. Thus begins the adventure of the Dodo and the Dell.
I call my good friend and computer whiz, Coyote, to survey the damage. After looking at the owner’s manual and observing little lights on the back of the computer that turn different colors to identify the trouble area, we decide it’s the video “card” (brilliant, eh?) which in this computer is built in to the “motherboard.” No biggie, we decide, let’s go to the store and buy a video card!
We go to the store and approach the counter and are told that “all orders must be placed on the internet”! After enjoying our stupefied looks, the clerk points us to a row of computers set up to allow the customers to use the stores internet web site to search for the product and the place the order. Once that is done, an order number is shown on the screen. You must make a note of this number and then go to another computer on the counter and input your order number where you receive you next instruction. We had ordered a part that was “on sale” for a savings of $10 off the $49 price. The order machine stated that we would get our part in thirty minutes. Would that it were to be – but no, my name is called in less than 10 minutes to be notified that this part must come from the warehouse, usually 2 or 3 days. OK. Stand by.
One week later I am concerned that I have not been notified and call the store to get an update. “Oh, that part is on back-order and we have no idea when it may appear.” My, I say, suppressing my vitriol, it would have been thoughtful of the store to let me know that fact. I ask the clerk if they have another product for about the same price that they actually have on hand that I could buy (“bait and switch?”). Ten minutes of searching produces a part for only $10 more and the clerk says it is in her hand as we speak. Hold that part, I am on my way. To their credit, when I picked up the part they did not charge anything extra. Good customer relations.
Sounds like this story is almost over. Oh, no, oh my god, no. We’ve only just begun.
Coyote installed the part and we stood ready with our champagne as we pushed the “go” button…huh?...black, ugly black screen remains! Hmmm…it seems that to recognize the new part we must tell the computer that it is in place – but we can’t talk to it because the screen is black. Aggggghhhh! Apparently, we must replace the “motherboard” to succeed. We call Dell and that particular part is on back order and no date is known for its arrival. Back to the store to try to find a motherboard that will fit the Dell “Case” Ha ha ha ha ha! Of course not you fool.
So now a new “case” and its associated belts, whistles and fans must be purchased to accept the new motherboard. We now have all the physical pieces that fit together and Coyote gives it the juice but to our dismay the screen remains a particularly dark shade of ebony. Finally, we decide that the store should perform an analysis with their special equipment to find what has eluded us. Aha! It turns out that the CPU, the little chip that is the brain of the outfit has given up the ghost. Another hundred bucks or so and we are ready to roll. Well, maybe not roll, inch along.
Plug it in – WE HAVE SCREEN! Yea! Not so fast kemo sabe. Computers are funny, they run on “software.” Before we can finish our first sigh of relief a message comes on the screen that says to use this software you must FIRST register with Microsoft. There is a telephone number to call and get an automated response where you read the code numbers/letters on the screen. There are ten groups of six you must announce to the system and after each group the voice says various things like “nice job, next group please.” I finish the last group and wait with bated breath as the mechanized voice says (I swear with a sneer) “that is not a valid code, goodbye” and disconnects. My head hurts.
Not to be stymied, Coyote calls Microsoft and eventually gets a real human who ultimately helps us with our plight. We are able to register by using the secret code on the Dell computer case, a mere 25 number/letter combination. Over the registration hurdle we must now put the new motherboard info into the system. There is a CD disc that has this on it. Somewhere in the installation we go wrong and we fail to get the computer to attach to the internet unless we start the computer in the “Safe” mode, which involves a lot of extra work and did not provide sound. At this point we surrender for the evening and plan for an attack in the future.
The next morning I decide to try the feature called “system restore” which allows you to select a time in the past when you thought your system was working well. This got the system back to a time before we tried to install the motherboard hardware. Some success, as I was now able to get to the internet in regular mode but still had no sound. So I fiddled around with the installation CD and got lucky and as if the intelligent designer herself was with me the mission was finally a fait accompli. Happy days are here again.
