All Souped-Up and Nowhere to Go

I am writing this on a new computer.

Like this is news.

But the truth is, my old was like an old relative wasting away in a convalescent home, cranky, creaky, slow beyond words and not recognizing visiting nephews. Each time I called up a new program, it sounded like an octogenarian getting up out of a recliner. And it took just as long, too.

So I went to Costco. You know, because they're just known for computers.

Actually, they're known for their return policy, which is lucky in my case.

I returned home with my big, hernia inducing box, lugged it in to the den, and immediately called my friend 'Dooga' (so named because this is what he and his former fiancee called each other at one time, to eveyone's mutual nausea, so now I get to tease him), to crow about my latest purchase.

Dooga owns a computer store.

Crowing about an out of the box, factory made computer from one of the mega-corporations (and coming with Windows Vista, no less) is a dumb thing to do to a guy who owns a computer store.

Very gently, Dooga asked me about my specs on the computer. The video card. What did it come with? He was so tactful, so gentle, that he was trashing my new purchase to utter pieces with the gentleness of petting a cat. By the time we were done, I looked only in disgust at my new purchase, and immediately commissioned him to build a custom made one for me instead. Within a week, it was completed, with him narrating each move every step of the way. All this, during his busy season (Christmas), too.

In the end, I had a mega-computer: it's like having ridden a moped once in your life, and then jumping on a Harley because you're 'familiar with motorcycles'. The truth is, I haven't the faintest idea what this thing can do.

I can't WAIT to find out.