@#$%^&*~!!!

"Sir, according to your answers to the list of diagnostic questions I just asked you, it seems you need a new mother board," said the slackjawed robot on the other end of the line. That didn’t sound good.

I had three more days to finish the Spiel and, as usual, I needed four. Anyone who’s worked with deadlines and computers understands the panic that sets in when the tool they rely on craps out. They’ll tell you it’s not because they didn’t expect to replace a $2,000 magic box that day. God knows, anybody who earns a living from a computer can afford that.

No, it’s the priceless stuff inside that box.

When your hammer breaks you can use a rock — when your computer breaks you gotta use whiskey.

Fortunately, the binary details in the hard drive were intact but it’s still like losing your keys with your dog in the car. On a really hot day. So now what?

"Must buy new computer."

In a dazed panic, I was halfway to the ferry when it occurred to me I should call Roxanne at our local computer shop in Madeira. I’m glad I did. Not only am I back at work, typing on a laptop she lent me, but in a few more days I’ll take delivery of a customized super computer that I’m confident is as good as or better than could be found in the lands past Sechelt. I haven’t had a computer problem like this for a long time and it made me realize how important it is to have a local shop. Good luck finding that kind of service online.

So, I was feeling pretty upbeat when I arrived home a mere six hours after my morning meltdown. But it wasn’t to last.

It took me all afternoon to transfer the files rescued from my old computer and to load most of the software I need to produce the Spiel on to the little laptop. My old computer had the XP operating system. This one — and the one I just ordered — has Microsoft’s fancy new Vista operating system. As I expected, Vista is a little different and confusing to navigate at first — something not helped by the sense of urgency produced from just losing a crucial chunk of production time. But it’s the incompatiblility between the two that astounded me — I’m not sure it wouldn’t have been easier to convert to a Mac.

Much of the work I have left to do sits in the form of e-mail files in Outlook Express in the rescued hard drive but since the Vista and XP operating systems don’t "talk," they might as well be in Barack Obama’s Blackberry until Roxanne extracts them tomorrow. None of my peripherals worked either until I downloaded "patches" to make the software for gadgets like my printer, camera and digital recorder run on Vista. There’s more but I won’t bore you with the details. If you’re reading this and it’s before Valentine’s Day, it all worked out.

But for all you kids out there, heed the moral of this story:  Stay in school, get a trade and learn to build stuff out of metal and wood with your hands — these computer things won’t last.