I am writing my last post from my trusty PC, a Sony Vaio that I have had for over three years. If I was eulogizing my Vaio (which I guess I am), I would say that it was a very good friend.
Oh, it's worse for the wear. It looks pretty shabby. Like most of the aged, its joints are wiggly and make noises when moved. The H and M keys are completely blank now from my constant pounding on them, the disc drive whines perilously loudly when it is used, the touch pad only works half the time, and Word has stopped running altogether (the death knell). Someone wiser than me has diagnosed it as a "motherboard event." I don't know what a "motherboard event" is, but it sounds frighteningly like an alien terrorist attack.
Vaio was patient while I wrote and revised the Vantage Point curriculum for non-Catholics attending Nativity who wanted to explore the Catholic faith. I have saved hundreds of Word documents that comprise my thoughts about God and life, and Vaio never once criticized the writing (except that it caught many typos for me, thankfully). It didn't balk at my burgeoning iTunes library containing far too many audiobooks, and never complained when I downloaded yet another C.S. Lewis book. It never let on that it was haunted by the spooky British guy who read Dante's Inferno. It was forced to house far too many photos of my children, churches in Rome and moss (I take a lot of pictures of moss. I like moss. I don't know why).
But it wasn't all work for Vaio. It did have a life of travel. It has been to New York, California, Texas, Arizona, Rome and various East Coast locales, as well as on many airplane and train trips. A few times, it got to go First Class.
I must admit that I wasn't always good to it, either. I yelled at it, sometimes using regrettable language. I dropped it a half a dozen times, and spilled numerous cups of coffee on it. I was always letting its battery run to the very end before recharging it.
Vaio was patient with other people, too, especially children. My girls played a lot of Jeopardy and Club Penguin on it. Tom's kids watched Aquaman videos on it and subjected it to mild abuse on Sunday mornings.
I feel a pang of betrayal, as I move from a PC to a Mac. But I think my Vaio does not know. It might have been suspicious while I was transferring hundreds of files last night, but it's pretty sick, so I think it is blissfully unaware of its fate.
At least that's what I tell myself.
Oh, it's worse for the wear. It looks pretty shabby. Like most of the aged, its joints are wiggly and make noises when moved. The H and M keys are completely blank now from my constant pounding on them, the disc drive whines perilously loudly when it is used, the touch pad only works half the time, and Word has stopped running altogether (the death knell). Someone wiser than me has diagnosed it as a "motherboard event." I don't know what a "motherboard event" is, but it sounds frighteningly like an alien terrorist attack.
Vaio was patient while I wrote and revised the Vantage Point curriculum for non-Catholics attending Nativity who wanted to explore the Catholic faith. I have saved hundreds of Word documents that comprise my thoughts about God and life, and Vaio never once criticized the writing (except that it caught many typos for me, thankfully). It didn't balk at my burgeoning iTunes library containing far too many audiobooks, and never complained when I downloaded yet another C.S. Lewis book. It never let on that it was haunted by the spooky British guy who read Dante's Inferno. It was forced to house far too many photos of my children, churches in Rome and moss (I take a lot of pictures of moss. I like moss. I don't know why).
But it wasn't all work for Vaio. It did have a life of travel. It has been to New York, California, Texas, Arizona, Rome and various East Coast locales, as well as on many airplane and train trips. A few times, it got to go First Class.
I must admit that I wasn't always good to it, either. I yelled at it, sometimes using regrettable language. I dropped it a half a dozen times, and spilled numerous cups of coffee on it. I was always letting its battery run to the very end before recharging it.
Vaio was patient with other people, too, especially children. My girls played a lot of Jeopardy and Club Penguin on it. Tom's kids watched Aquaman videos on it and subjected it to mild abuse on Sunday mornings.
I feel a pang of betrayal, as I move from a PC to a Mac. But I think my Vaio does not know. It might have been suspicious while I was transferring hundreds of files last night, but it's pretty sick, so I think it is blissfully unaware of its fate.
At least that's what I tell myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment