Some Days Her PC Does Not Compute

My computer is a turkey. By that I mean nothing derogatory. I am not mad at the clanking, wheezing, whirring thing today because it is working beautifully.

The other day, though, I wanted it to print something and it refused. It acted as if it had never been asked to use the printer before in its electronic life. Now, the only area of coziness I have had with this thing is when it prints. The printer seems to understand its function and clacks merrily away, although I do not understand how it keeps the copy straight because it prints back and forth across the page--printing from the right, then the left. You’d think it would lose its train of thought.

The other day, it not only lost its train of thought, it lost its disposition. I did all the things and pushed all the buttons I have been told to, and the screen kept saying “Printer not ready.”

It was on. It had the long roll of paper threaded through its $75 paper holder. It should have started its staccato weaving back and forth, which results in copying what I have typed into the computer. It just sat there and didn’t even clack.

The computer’s best friend is also a treasured friend of mine. He is a junior at Occidental College who is a “a genius at computers,” and that’s from one of his peers. When I forget something he has already told me, I call him and he comes over and works out a shaky truce between me and the computer. Very little glasnost on either side.

My problem is that Craig Hodges, my rescuer, is spending this summer vacation with his parents outside Pittsburgh, working for some giant computer company. I have called him three times during the summer and each time he has solved my problem.

This time, it was too early in the day for Craig to be home from work in three-hours-away Pittsburgh. So I called a place called Nynex, which knows all about all kinds of computers and helps people like me. A pleasant and helpful young man named Keith Mainwal arrived soon, dispatched by Barbara Dylag, the manager of the Nynex branch who has been of assistance on other dark days. Keith poked and prodded and worried for two hours. The screen kept saying, “Printer not ready.” In the midst of all this, Keith received a telephone call saying that his grandfather had been taken to the hospital and he was to go to his mother’s.

He grieved at not having been able to make the monster march but I insisted he go to his mother. He was obviously deeply concerned about the situation at home. When something is really wrong, the small aberrations of these machines assume their proper proportion.

Keith went away. He called me later saying that George Kuffel would start to work on my problems, which were now involving more people than I had ever intended.

Later that day, I called Craig near Pittsburgh who said, “It is probably the parallel printer, which is a part inside the computer also called the display printer card.”

We were in water far too deep for me even to see the shore. Keith called again. I asked about his grandfather and told him what Craig had said. Then I talked to George Kuffel, who said he would call Craig in Pittsburgh, because he, George, had Craig’s number at work.

I had other chores the next day so I worked out a way for George to get into the house. George did it. He fixed the problem. When I reached home that evening there was a long note in the printer telling me that he had formatted (I think that’s the word Keith and Craig and Barbara and George and probably Keith’s grandfather use) another disk to go in the left side and make it work.

I asked him what had gone wrong with the first one and he said, “Maybe a speck of dust.”

Talk about the princess and the pea. The princess seems like a robust camp counselor compared to the delicate sensibilities of this “bucket of bolts,” which is what George called it. I love George.

Ah, well, summer will soon be over whether we like it or not, and Craig will be back at Occidental. And a lot of nice people worked two days to solve my problem. Then why is the computer a turkey? Because it was fixed by long distance phone--which is how my Auntie Ruth taught me to cook my first turkey when I was 18 years old and it was the first Thanksgiving without Mama.

The only thing is I can still fix a turkey but I can’t fix this thing. I like it better, though. It has so many nice friends.