My Computer - Memoirs

Rewind to freshman year of college:

Andy and I arrive at FAR on a cool, brisk day in August. Books in one hand, pencils and calculator in the other, both of us ready and excited for the coming 4 years of hardcore learning. Other possessions accompanying us from home: my 27" TV and Nintendo 64 (in case there was time left over after class and studying), his fridge, VCR, and videos - The Usual Suspects (for people to come over and fall asleep through it halfway), Titanic (for the ladies), and Basic Instinct with Special Features (for Andy).

But the focus of any guy's dorm room, no matter how big the TV or how loud the stereo, is the computer. A room without a computer is like a chicken without a head - lost in no man's land, and pretty much useless. It is your connection to the Internet, your source of mp3s, your connection to AOL and telnet email, and most importantly of all, home to the greatest video game of them all: Starcraft.

Unfortunately, that particular computer was already on its dying legs by the time we got to school. Music would skip if you tried running any other programs at the same time. The screen would freeze for no reason. And my battle.net homies got pretty used to seeing the popup screen:

"Waiting for players:
[] Dudo~509~
0:45 ... 0:33 ... 0:27 ..."

So I took my lumps and suffered through that piece of crap for a whole school year. Not letting me telnet to students.uiuc.edu was one thing, and I guess I could deal with losing my ECE Mallard homework once in a while to a random system freeze. But it was getting to the point where my crafting was being hampered. Many times I would cry out to the comp in frustration, "damn, why you gotta be wasting my flava?" (anyone know where that quote is from?). For there are few things that irk a man more than the presence of lag, especially when he is engaged in craft among the stars.

Fast forward to sophomore year:

I arrive at ISR with Anuj. It is a sunny afternoon. All our belongings, 27" TV included, are mashed into the backseat or trunk of his '92 Toyota Corolla. I step to the front desk with excitement, and let out a yelp of glee as the desk chick (*not the fabled "ISR desk chick" of Poongbunkorian lore) informs me of 2 large Dell boxes with my name on it.

I quickly signed for the packages, and brought them to my room. Set up my 17" monitor, speakers with subwoofer, and the smooth cream-skinned tower of power on the desk, and took a step back to admire its beauty. It was love at first sight.

What followed were some of the best years of my life. Filled with many joyous moments, skip-free music, multiple windows of ESPN.com GameCast open, downloading of all the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears videos I wanted, and of course, lag-less craft on top of everything else.

Over the years, I took good care of my baby, and she took good care of me. When the 13.6 GB hard drive was getting cramped, I got her a 40 GB addition. When the 128 MB of RAM was not cutting it, I upped the number to 320. She wanted a CD burner to keep up with her friends, and I gladly obliged. Whenever she started to get a little too chubby around the registry, I made sure to give her the best lipo action possible, with a clean format and upgrade to Windows 2000. But through it all, the trusty Intel PIII-550 processor and motherboard stayed true.

Fast forward again, to Summer 2002:

My baby starts to show her age. Faster and better processors now dominate the market. My 17" CRT monitor, once the king of computer displays, burns out, perhaps caving under the pressure. The pressure of being constantly compared not only to the larger 19 and 20 inchers, but the new flashy flat-panel LCDs as well. Meanwhile, the dreaded Starcraft lag lurks in the shadows, rearing its ugly head whenever I try to run too many programs or fail to reboot regularly enough.

Still, I pressed on. For I am not a man akin to coldly ditch a loved one, simply when times get rough. But time is a silent killer that shows no mercy. Unlike me, my computer doesn't get better, sexier, or more refined with age; it only gets worse. And now, it appears to be breathing its final breaths.

It's a tough pill to swallow, when someone you care so deeply about is ready to pass on. No matter how hard you try to resist and hang on tight, the waves of change are far too forceful and cannot be deterred for long. As I tried to play the special features of the Crossroads DVD last night and was greeted by a screen of jumbled characters and graphics, words could not describe the feelings inside me.

Though I hid it well, for the sake of onlookers, an overwhelming sense of panic came over me as I realized the extent of this loss. I reset the computer - twice - with no response. Eventually the soft, deep blue eyes of my Dell Dimension would reopen, bringing a huge sigh of relief, but irreparable damage had already been done. For I now realized that those eyes would not stay open forever, as I had once hoped. Try as I might, there could be no denying the fact that her time was short and finite.

So I sit and wait, surrounded by uncertainty so strong it is virtually palpable. My baby is still with me for now, but for how long? When will the next attack of system failure come, and will she survive it? What will I do once she is gone for good? And will I ever be able to find the same solace and tender love in the arms of another?

The questions are many, the answers are few. Such goes the way of life, I suppose. As one journeys along in the quest for answers, he encounters far more questions than he ever anticipated. Perhaps we are not meant to know certain things - the truth is hidden from us and revealed only when the time is right. Still, I persist. I shall continue to travel this road, until I myself reach its very end.

*****

Yes, I know it's just a computer, and yes, I am mostly joking. You know how I write, it starts out innocently and spirals out of control.

But I'm not kidding about lag, though. I really hate lag.

Also, the Crossroads DVD incident was based on a true story. There were three of the said onlookers who could verify it.