• The cash stampede

    I didn’t even know it had a name. I’d never seen it before my Beth’s PowerBook started having problems last month.

    Apparently there is a screen of death on a Mac, the dread blue-screen equivalent: the GSOD, or grayed-out screen of death. I can’t blame you if you’ve never heard of it. It’s rarely seen in the wild, confined mostly to secret labs, under highly controlled circumstances, with experts trained in the clandestine arts of infiltration and subversion.

    But sometimes it does find it’s way out. Even the experts don’t know how.

    Anyway, I’ve run hardware tests and software tests. I’ve run multiple diagnostic programs. I’ve even gone where few Mac users have gone before: I did a clean reinstall of the OS.

    “No you DIDN’T go there!”

    Yes. Yes I did.

    You know what happened the minute the install completed and it rebooted? Yep, the damn GSOD.

    I think I finally know the pain, regret, anguish, and envy that come as a standard options with every copy of Windows.

    I think this is a sign my beloved old 12″ PowerBook is starting to die. This presents a few problems, besides the obvious, emotional ones. One of my favorite computers of all time is slowly dying. (sniff) It means there will be one less computer in a house that’s come to depend on many. It means Beth will start asking to squeeze in on my time with the MacBook. It means I may have to learn how to share again.

    Cheryl, bless her heart, saw this for what it was: disaster on the horizon. You’ll take my Mac from my cold, dead hands.

    She immediately sought out options. She looked at iMacs, MacBooks, MacBook Pros… and looking over her shoulder my heart started to heal… to hop and skip with a little excitement even (with a pinch of survivor’s guilt though). Then reality set in: the financial ruin we’ve come to call our checking account. We thought about an iPad, but we decided it probably wouldn’t fill Beth’s needs for a computer to do school work. Plus, until many of the sites she visits stop using Flash (I’m not holding my breath), an iPad would likely find little use… by Beth.

    Hummm…

    by… Beth…?

    That’s when inspiration struck. Neither of us could rely on an iPad alone for our computing needs. However, I find there are evenings when I don’t pick up my MacBook – sometimes not even to write (my thumbs got skillz).

    When I got my first laptop, desktop computers felt bulky and constraining. Who wants to sit at a desk when you can work on the couch, or better: under your cozy blanket in bed? Not surprisingly, the same thing happened when I got my iPhone. I found I never had to go further than my pocket for a computer… and it is a computer… a computer that also happens to be a phone. The miracle I discovered with the iPhone is this: I can do 80% of what most people use a computer for (the internets, in various ways), plus a few things most people don’t (read a good book).

    And here’s the kicker.

    Wait for it…

    I can do it all comfortably with one thumb. (Caveat: I use the remaining four fingers on the hand to cradle the phone, and my left hand lends an assist if I decide to write something). In fact, there are some things I prefer to do on my iPhone, like checking my news and blog feeds on google (with a slick app that syncs with google reader), or wandering through twitter and Facebook.

    Since the iPad will talk to a bluetooth keyboard – and I just happen to have one of Apple’s shiny aluminum beauties – some of my longer writing moods could conceivably be satisfied by an iPad. The software I use to keep a journal is about to release a companion app for the iPhone, there are already apps for my WordPress blog, and iPhone apps will supposedly work on the iPad (until dedicated apps are written). So, between my iPhone and an iPad, I could go days without feeling the need to pick up my laptop.

    This sharing thing could actually work.

    Bless you Cheryl.

  • More than secure

    I know staples are a staple of office life (I’ve been waiting all my life to write that phrase), but I’m a firm believer in the “one stack, one staple” concept. It’s an obsession. It raises my sense of self-righteousness to supreme being levels.

    Then there’s the lazy stapler. Every office has one.

    How many times has this happened to you? You’re removing a staple to make a copy, only to find an embeded staple waiting in ambush. I’ve run into stacks with as many as ten embeds. It’s maddening.

    So please, for the sake of the little fishies down stream – don’t add another staple if you’re adding to the stack. Pull the first one out before you reach for your trusty Swingline.

    If you can’t see the symmetry or beauty of a lovingly aligned stack of paper with a single, elegant fastener… think of me. Think of all the other obsessive people out there. We may be a little weird, but we have feelings too.

  • One fine whine

    One of the advantages of US style health care is being able to obtain services without having to wait until the sun goes supernova (which could be a really long time, since our sun doesn’t have enough mass to go it alone).
    – common wisdom in the US. When I say common wisdom (an oxymoron in the US) I’m refering to the part about waiting for healthcare, not the part about the sun. Most Americans probably don’t know the sun is a star just like the other pretty lights in the night sky.

    My doctor wants me to see a neurologist about my headaches. Well, one of my doctors. I have several. In fact I’m seeing another one today, one I’ve known longer. She referred me to a practice in Tampa, the only one in the area specializing in headaches (so she says).

    I held my breath as I checked with my insurance to see if this neurologist, the lone sentinel standing against the headache blight, was blessed by the managed care gods. She was, so with a renewed sense of faith and optimism I called to make an appointment.

    They can squeeze me right in between Christmas and Thanksgiving – assuming they can get all of my medical records right away. Hah! Me and what army of copiers? Trees standing under the threatening eyes of pulp mills weep at the thought.

    How do you spell “ouch?”

    I’ve heard chronic headaches are pretty common in the US, though I haven’t taken the time to do the google for this post. That begs the question: where’s this free market everyone speaks so highly of? With all of this pent up demand, why isn’t there a headache clinic on every corner (next to Starbucks)?

    Oh capitalism! Why has thou forsaken me?