The death of a computer can be a tragic loss

Back in my growing-up years, Mom and Dad did everything by the book. No matter where Dad’s job took him, we bought a three-bedroom house in the suburbs. We kids attended public schools and went to church every Sunday. I got a paper route.

And, every three years, without fail the folks bought a new General Motors car.

Today, I live and work in the city. I live in a condominium apartment. Instead of selling newspapers, I write for them. My wife and I have two foreign-made cars, four and 13 years old respectively, each running like a top.

And, every three years after suffering through a surprisingly sudden, inglorious and painful death of the previous machine, I buy a new computer.

Being of at least average intelligence, possessing one advanced degree, you would think that I would see the warning signs of the coming fatal attack. A freeze up here, a printer failure there, a data dump here, a failure to boot there, piddly annoyances that as they multiply spell Trouble right here in River City. Trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P and that stands for (big) Problem.

The coup d’ grace came when the computer and the Internet browser suddenly divorced or whatever you call “I’m not talking to you ever again.” The Comcast technician and I tried patching things up, but the damage was done.

I turned to the reps at Dell, now only an outsourced phone call away in India, but after innumerable tests and jump start attempts, they pronounced the 3-year-old machine essentially brain dead. It could be revived only after reformatting the hard drive. “Hope you have all your data backed up,” they said, their English impeccable.

Ah, not exactly.

Now, we all have had enough experiences with computers to know the total and utter helplessness we feel when they crash. In larger work environments, you simply call your IS (information service) genius to proffer the needed remedy.

But for those growing legions who run small and single-proprietor businesses on the backs of a single computer, whose cash flow does not allow for IS wizardry, wiping out every byte of data from the only hard drive you own can be emotionally and economically devastating.

There goes your address books, your e-mail lists, your banking records, your tax records, your creative history, your Internet favorites, your digital photographs – poof, wiped out with one simple command the computer still understands.

What have I learned?

Like cars of yesteryear, computers are built with about as much stability as a Lego project. No wonder major computer manufacturers offer nothing more than a three-year warranty, two of which are paid by the consumer. True, today’s computers offer more (combo CD-DVD RW drives, hard drives with more space than a 747, photo filing and flat screen monitors) for less. All the more to go wrong, friends.

Don’t be greedy. Don’t fill that expansive hard drive to anything close to capacity. Whatever RAM comes with the machine, immediately double it.

Don’t be lazy. There are a half-dozen perfectly effective ways to back up your data easily and quickly, so use one weekly (Fridays from 4:30 to 5 p.m. before shutting it down for the weekend). Think of it as changing your oil every three months. Find a way, although it’s nearly impossible, to back up your e-mail address book. Maintain an address book on paper, away from your computer.

When your computer starts acting funny (unexplained program crashes, incomprehensible error messages, failing to drive accessories such as printers or scanners, modem failures), run, don’t walk, to the nearest computer repair shop and pray. Computers simply do not repair themselves.

No matter how extensively you’ve backed up your files, reloading them will take longer than expected.

And when you inevitably purchase a replacement, consider the three-year warranty with included telephone technical support as part of the total purchase price.

Write Eric Zoeckler at The Herald, P.O. Box 930, Everett, WA 98206 or e-mail mrscribe@aol.com.