My internet silence has been cunningly disguised with a spate of automatic or semi-automatic posts. And endless Twittering/Facebooking.
The reason is the acquisition of a new PC. There was a time when acquiring a new toy was occasion for unalloyed pleasure. Nowadays, it seem generally to be replacing something that is failing or outright broken. Even though the replacement tends to have better functionality built in, and, on account of its newness tends to work better, to begin with anyway, the pleasure of newness is overshadowed by the hassle of customisation.
For example, when I got a new mp3 player a few weeks ago, all I could think of was the number of CDs I would have to process having already done so in the past three years. At least when you get a new stereo you don't have to do anything to your physical CD collection. If the hassle of a new mp3 player wasn't enough, multiply that manifold by a new PC. It was due to be delivered "between 8.30 am and 5pm on Friday". So I made sure I was up and dressed by 8.15. And I sat around, unable to focus on the chores I ought to have been filling my time with.
At ten to five I phoned the retailer, who were polite and responsive; by two minutes to five they were able to tell me the delivery driver was pulling up outside my house. So I went to look. Needless to say he wasn't. I knew he would have been pulling up outside someone else's house, where his GPS had sent him, without the wit or wisdom to consult an A-Z which would have shown him the folly of his location. At seven minutes past five I spotted a man carrying a package knocking on my neighbour's door. Funny, I don't recall directing several hundred pounds of consumer goods to my neighbours.
I then spent several hours just getting the new PC into something that resembled working order. Before Christmas, when I had so much hassle with my broadband connection, when BT swore blind the cause of the problem was me (it wasn't) I bought a new modem, a wireless one. It has since sat in the box; it seemed a good idea to install it on the new PC.
Epic Fail.
I can't say I have really diagnosed the problem, but because it doesn't dump an icon on my desktop or in my tray, I can't take the next step in installation. Further investigation shows that it isn't actually compatible with Windows Vista. It seems particularly dumb or cynical to sell something in November 2008 that doesn't work with Vista. The manufacturer's website has some workarounds (I don't think they're actually updates) but the instructions, obviously written by techies, bear very little relationship to working English.
Is it so difficult to write explanations that say clearly, simply and unambiguously, what to do. I am proficient in English, not unintelligent, and above averagely geeky, but it makes no sense to me. I pity the thick, the semi-literate, those who just want a Pc to do stuff, and those whose first language isn't one of the few options available.
I've now got it to a reasonable state of being able to do things, and there are certain new features that I really like. But I do feel a bit resentful at the several hours spent already, and yet to be spent, which seem redundant.
On Saturday I decided to clean the house (well, tidy, mainly) in preparation for an Easter weekend to be spent in thorough blitzing. I realised that I was missing several vital cleaning products. I also know that I am nearly out of vital store cupboard ingredients, and the freezer is half full of random nonsense. I initially Twittered that I would be heading out to Sainsburys in the evening, then decided against it.
As a parenthesis, I am not a big fan of the Supermarket experience. I prefer to buy fresh stuff in Sainsburys Local or M&S Simply Food. Fruit and veg from our local greengrocers (Jimmy's sister-in-law and late brother), wine from a wine specialist. I do the very occasional massive over-shop in a big store and then spend months depleting the stocks.
I decided I couldn't be bothered to trail round the supermarket, so I ordered on line, and it came today. I could have sworn that I ordered a 1 kg bag of rice, so was surprised to see a 4 kg bag. I have to confess I am a sucker for offers - two for a pound or, as there's 20p off I'd better take advantage and get more than one, to save more than 20p (yeah, I know!).
The delivery man, who was very sweet, explained that he had to ask the postman and someone else where my house was. What was I supposed to say? Well, you know what I said - "it's on the A-Z".
I remember years ago being with a minicab driver who said that he believed he knew South West London pretty well, but almost every week he was presented with a destination that challenged him. It might be a private hospital/nursing home, a new block of flats, a hidden mews address. So he carried a detailed A-Z. He opined that some drivers see it as loss of face to consult a map; he saw it as a way to get the customer where they wanted to go with the minimal of fuss with the least time wasted. I consider him to be a very sensible man. Unlike too many modern delivery drivers who believe that the GPS will always get it precisely right each time, and have no fallback when it doesn't.
But then when the stuff comes, it takes ages to put it away. You then realise that you've bought things that won't need replacing for years, and yet, you only have one tin of tomatoes in the cupboard!
