Making Room for the New Toys

In a fit of hysteria and aggravation (which often go hand in hand when I'm at judge camp), I finally gave up and replaced my computer this week. I was on the cusp of flinging my iPad out the 8th floor window of my hotel room in Nashville. I decided that it was probably better to hold on to it and just do something about the computer mess at my house. I last replaced all computers, of desk and lap variety, when I stepped into my solo life in 2006. I am advised that in techno-terms this is nearly forever. The desktop PC was built for me by a computer guy; the HP laptop was purchased (again at a judge camp in Nashville; wonder if it's the water ...) at a Computers R Us or some such. At some point on some trip (could have been somewhere in Louisiana with a bunch of cyclist), the laptop fried itself and has been limping along ever since with occasionally infuriating idiosyncrasies. The technician who tried to repair it for me finally said, "Try that and see if it will work for awhile." The desktop PC has been getting slower and slower and slower. All the little programs that go in and poke around for scary stuff have either been totally co-opted by the enemy or they are honest about telling that they find nothing essentially wrong. Since I am a total technophobe as well as a techno-idiot, I have no idea which it is. However, when it got to the point that the work I had taken to judge camp with me could not be completed because all the wretched electronic bits and bobs wouldn't work, I decided that it was time to bite the bullet. Lest you think me a complete wastrel, I had been doing some research (as much as you can when you don't understand 89% of what the reviewers are talking about); I had picked the brains of the technical types the state sends out to shepherd their computers in the court system; I had talked to people who had the products I was considering. Then I threw caution to the wind and skipped a business lunch to run out to the Apple Store in Nashville. I blew in to the carefully designed showroom like a Mistral, probably just as cold and unwelcome. The eleven year old greeter quickly handed me off to "Tyler", who was probably about thirteen. Tyler was sporting the standard Apple Store issue of jeans, a t-shirt with some Apple slogan on it, sneakers, a store ID on an Apple lanyard, and a lapful of small electronic devices. They were in his lap because he was in a wheelchair. Whatever the reason for the wheelchair was, it didn't inhibit his ability a whit to be just as confusing and opaque (as far as I was concerned) as every other Apple-clad child in the store. I answered the child's questions (carefully memorized in a Customer Service training, no doubt) and followed him dutifully to the appropriate blazing silver table. He showed me something which, he said, would fit my needs. I told him I wanted a bigger screen. He explained that a bigger screen would add to the price, but I told him the price wasn't really the issue if I couldn't see what I was looking at. He was gracious enough to look slightly abashed. They always think I'm younger than I really am. So, we spent about 90 seconds looking at the bigger stuff together then I said, "I'll have that one." Tyler began to tap and swipe and swish and whatever else he was doing with all that stuff in his lap and relieved me of vast sums of money in very short order. Then he disappeared into the Aladdin's Cave behind the Genius Bar (formerly referred to as the Service Desk) to select the perfect Mac for me. We then retired to yet another shiny table where he proceeded to "set me up" (which was just as well because I have no idea what he was doing). I was out of the shop in under an hour with a snazzy Apple-designed carrier box for my purchases - most of which were etherial - and a song in my heart. Tyler said I was his best customer all day. Of course, it was only lunchtime.

I've been doing battle with the new technology for several days now. I purchased some sort of personal tutorial assistance so that this expenditure will not be a total waste of resources. My first appointment isn't for another week or so, however. I am hopeful I will have figured out enough not to feel like tossing this thing out the window before then. Meanwhile, I am trying to design a better work space in my home. The cutesy computer cabinet I bought to house the desktop PC has turned into something that resembles nothing so much as the cabinet of Dr. Caligari. I really must get rid of it and find a less overwhelming space for work. I look longingly at the serene, stripped down work surfaces suggested by the organization experts and wonder where on earth they keep the Stuff that seems to accumulate with any project. Perhaps I just need to be more diligent about ruthlessly throwing things away. I am, alas, a child of that generation that was taught "you better keep it just in case ... you never know." Or, "this is a perfectly good widget, surely it can be used for something." I have jars and canisters and boxes of that kind of nonsense. We shall see.

And now I'm accumulating knitting nonsense as well. I figure it's probably better to engage in that pursuit than in drinking and smoking. I'm beginning to wonder if it's any cheaper, though. My clerk has started work on a new child, who is to be presented in September some time. So, in a fit of unaccustomed generosity, I decided to start knitting small things. I nearly went blind during judge camp trying to knit tiny green socks on toothpicks (OK, they were actually size 1.5 double pointed needles). I got so frustrated with the "heel turn" that I just stuck everything back in the bag and had a drink. I am presently taking a break by knitting another hat with chunky yarn and size 10.5 needles which are approximately the size of a Cohiba cigar. Obviously, this is not for the new child unless it is born with a head the size of a watermelon. It will fit me quite nicely, though. All of this is in aid of supporting my previous statement that I need to design a better work space. If you haven't messed with it, you have no idea how much junk you can amass with various knitting projects. I didn't have time to hit The Container Store while I was in Nashville, but I think a stop to the online site may be in order.

The musical members of the family are in dire need of a new design as well. One of the problems with the computer cabinet is that it is right next to the big harp in that room. I'm always stepping and dodging around something to get to something else. There are three harps of various sizes in that room and it can get flat scary in the dark! And you never know until you turn the office chair around whether or not there is a cat sleeping on it. I have to wriggle and contort among various instruments in that room to get to the clothes closet that is full of jackets and scarves. And the sheet music one can pile up over the years! A friend of mine once said that you may as well buy all the music you can; it's not as if it's going to go bad like bananas or something. Sometimes I question the wisdom of that philosophy. I seem to recall, however, that this same friend spent an entire spring break with her husband installing more cabinet space in their music room and trying to organize the reams and reams of sheet music. Alas, nothing is more vexing that buying a book of music that looks really interesting only to discover it was in your own library all the time. Some days the idea of just walking away from all of it is very attractive.

However, I am truly, wildly and extravagantly blessed. Our Lord has seen fit to allow me, at this time of my life, to be able to have the problem of where to put stuff. For this I thank Him. Now I just need my guardian angel to kick start me into putting this largesse in order!

Hope you are well and enjoying the bounty of grace.

"What is the use of making mistakes if you don't make use of them?" (Dorothy Sayers, Gaudy Night)