Yesterday my laptop died, just as I was finishing up a blog post. The laptop, a Dell 1420 purchased in 2007, was supposed to be the instrument by which a certain individual would write a well-received novel. It is survived by a balky iPhone 4s and an annoyed owner who has decided to look further than Dell for his next computer. No services are planned.
Five years? Really? Shouldn’t a $1,200 computer last at least seven years? Shouldn’t it have written a better book than the one it did? Stupid computer! Now I’ll have to buy a new machine or muddle along with a borrowed one. Otherwise, the site goes dark for a few days and my position as unpaid blogger emeritus gets very precarious. Can’t have that.
It’s a cruel world. Shiny gadgets get old quick, and then they break your heart. I prefer dogs. They don’t last all that long either, but at least they’re sincere. Here’s Mom’s old dog Patch, for whom I have a deep affection. Maybe because I think the feeling is mutual. His ears are a little askew because of a run-in with a pickup years ago, but Patch doesn’t let it get him down.