Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Edification Of A Geek

Being a computer enthusiast will often get you offers to do your magic on someone's computer. These people are usually relatives, co-workers and neighbors but not necessarily in that order. So there you are fixing the disabled computer and the question they always ask is, "How do you know all this stuff about computers?" My standard response is usually something along the lines of "Oh I just enjoy working on them." Which is in fact very true. I love working with computers. But my mostly self-taught education hasn't happened all at once and it is definitely not over.

My first exposure to computers came about in the early 80's when a friend  brought a Commodore computer home. We would tinker with it all day and night. Copying lines of code from some magazine or book line by line. Hours of work to watch simple diagrams and pictures being created on the screen with x's and o's.

By the end of the 1980's computers were starting to become more advanced. It was becoming common to see shelves of software in the computer stores. I bought my first computer at Radio Shack paying over $1800 dollars for the computer. And to be real honest this computer became a center of entertainment more than an educational tool.

Advance forward to the early 90's and the world was slowly becoming aware of Bill Gates and his company Microsoft. MS-Dos was the operating system and Windows 3.1 was riding on top. I bought another computer during this period and the real education would begin that day. I broke the computer on the first day I owned the machine. The monitor said Super VGA right on it. Why didn't I have all the colors it was supposed to have? Lesson number one, never make changes you know nothing about. Well I did. I changed the video settings and ended up with colorful horizontal lines. By 4am the following morning I had read the manuals, computers use to come with manuals, re-installed MS-Dos and Windows. My life would never be the same.

The next several years were filled with trying new things with the computer. I bought new hard drives and learned how to install them. I installed a 2400 baud modem so I could go online with local bulletin boards  or BBS's as they were called. I built a computer from scratch before I really knew what I was doing. It was amazing that it ran at all. People were buying computers more than ever before. The Internet become all the rage and Napster turned the music industry upside down. I was totally hooked on computers and technology by this time.

In 1999 I found myself in the classrooms again but now it was for Microsoft certifications. Since the Internet boom was in full swing, I was going to have a great career as a Microsoft Engineer. I was almost finished with the program, only one more test. My career as a Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer would not happen. The Dot Com bust pretty much stole the thunder from this field. My certification would become almost worthless. I wound up as a fully certified engineer sitting in call center helping people get connected to the Internet. The jobs that were available were all asking for experience and multiple skill sets. I had neither multiple skills or real-world experience.

When you are a tech support technician you are basically forced to learn. I learned how to use Windows, how to install and configure it and how to troubleshoot problems. I learned how to guide people into doing something they were sure they couldn't do. My job now is not any different from before with one big exception. I do the support face to face now rather than on the phone. I still love working with computers. I still love building them and taking them apart for the fun of it. Learning about how they work still challenges my mind. I guess it always will.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Parenting Can Be A Nightmare

"Kids are just walking towards death at all times."
This is a partial quote from Jim Brewer's recent comedy show I watched.

As most watchful parents we want to protect our children. But things happen that may or may not be in our control. John was just learning to walk. Wobble is more like it. We lived in a small old trailer that often needed repairs from time to time. The trailer wasn't even fifty feet long. Two small bedrooms, one just to the left and another a few feet down the hallway. I kept tools in a small toolbox in this hallway. This made them easy for me to access and there really wasn't any storage area anyway. Of course I kept it locked at all times until I needed them. One afternoon I was preparing to replace the entire light fixture over the front door. I unlocked the toolbox and started to gather what I needed. John came wobbling along the short hallway and he fell forward in the same instant I was about to stand with tools in hand. One of them was a fixed blade razor knife. John fell right on it slicing his lip wide open. I started freaking out and Donna came rushing over to see what I was screaming about. John was bleeding bad and crying but she managed to get him under control as we headed to the hospital. I continued to freak out. I was such a nervous wreck. Donna somehow kept her cool and was able to soothe John as I drove. She was simply wonderful at getting him to calm down even amidst my hysterics. Even now she has the magic to calm him that I never had.

Son number two Nick is many times more out-going than John. This he demonstrated even when he was small. Before he was three years old we were finishing up at a local Chinese favorite. This restaurant is nestled in the heart of Sugarhouse right on 2100 S. at about 10th E. On any given day or night this is a very busy street. Four lanes of traffic, parking right on curbside of the many many shops that line the street. As we were paying our bill at the counter, a small group of people entered the restaurant. Nick flashed between all the legs and ran straight out the door not stopping until he was on the yellow center line of the street. Without thinking I dash after him. The traffic stopped all around us. Amazingly there was just enough space between the cars that we both were not hit. Nick's playful smile was gone. I believe he instinctively knew he was in danger and stopped.

I feel I have lived my life for these two boys who are quickly growing into young men. I can imagine most parents feel the same. I can't quite imagine what a parent feels that loses a child. But I came close a few times. I can remember my scream, my thought of terror, the flash of possible loss. These feelings I had for both boys were exactly the same for both even though these events were years apart.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Puzzling Moments Create Sweet Memories

Norman Rockwell captured the hearts of America with his Saturday Evening Post covers depicting various scenes from our lives at that time. One in particular strikes memories for me as it had been turned into a puzzle. The scene show a gray haired doctor preparing the needle and a young boy staring steadfastly into the wall. He has red hair cut in the crew cut style so popular in the fifties. His trousers are pulled down slightly exposing a small portion of his rump. He is awaiting the inevitable sting of he needle as the doctor is about to approach with needle in hand. The boys mouth is taught and his eyes continue to stare straight into the wall. This scene created the puzzle my mother and I put together one evening. As puzzles go this one wasn't extremely difficult. The scene afforded many different objects allowing us to decipher their whereabouts that much easier. So it wasn't the level of difficulty that created this sweet memory but that of Mom and I sitting at the kitchen table in a mini competition for finding the next piece. Just as Norman Rockwell was trying to depict the simpler aspects of life and create connections and now nostalgia, I looked a puzzle laid out uncompleted on a table the other day and this memory of simpler times, this memory of nostalgia swept over me filling me with happiness that cannot be falsely created. Thanks Mom.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Higher Than A Georgia Pine But Thank God My Feet Were Still On The Ground

My friend had a small trailer over on Fifty-Third South right across from where the old smelter used to be. The smelter has been torn down and I don't know if the trailer park is still there or not. I can remember him telling me it only cost him $150 a month and the manager didn't care what we did as long as the rent was paid. Well we had a few parties there to say the least.

On one of those parties Dave asked me if I wanted to do some coke. Hell yea I did. This was usually way out of my price range but he had recently come into a bunch of money and was feeling very generous that night. We went into the bathroom, if you can call it that, barely enough room to fit us both in and Dave pulled out the coke. I reached for a mirror and he said we wouldn't be needing that. I was puzzled at first until I saw the needle. He mixed some coke with water in a spoon and put a piece of cotton in the middle of it. I had never seen any of this before and was both scared and excited. Was I really doing this I kept asking myself? Apparently I was because he handed me the syringe and started tying off his arm. I was about to stick a needle into my friend were the words swirling in my mind. I barely heard him as he described how to stick it in and draw the blood in. But I did as he asked. He sat there and smiled big with glazing eyes and after a short time he asked if I was ready. The ritual was repeated in the spoon. It seemed to take longer this time. I was getting anxious as the sweat fell from my brow. Relax dude Dave told me, you haven't had anything yet. No coke yes but the beer and pot was working its magic too. We tied my arm off and just like it was a slow motion movie the needle made its way into my flesh. The blood rushed into the shaft mixing with water and coke. His glassy blue looked into mine once more. I remember it as a cold but still inviting stare. In reality this was but mere seconds but in my reality of the moment time was slow. A frame by frame picture show until the rush. It was utterly fantastic. An orgasm for the mind and body at the same time. Wow! I must have said that ten times. Dave just chuckled as he was preparing another round for himself. This time my hands were shaking with excitement as I moved the needle closer to his arm.

I can clearly see that yes, I was as high as the title of this post suggests. I was lucky I made it through that particular summer alive. Really lucky. In fact we all made it through including Dave. He burned through thousands of dollars going into his veins increasing his quantity and decreasing his generosity. All of us liked getting stoned as I would be lying to say so otherwise. But even we could see the power coke was having on Dave. One hotter than hell afternoon in July I was pulling into the dock at work and there sprawled out on the cement was Dave. I was sure he was dead. His hair was all matted and his clothes were dirty. His shoe was missing from one foot. I ran over to him and started to shake him. At first he didn't respond. Slowly he opened his eyes as he described being thrown from a bus that morning. Dave was done with coke on this morning but not because he wanted to quit. He was simply out of money. His wave of the high life had just crashed and spit him out.

I'm nearly forty-nine now as I reflect on those days. I made it out because my feet stayed planted on the ground. I have found the highs in my life mainly because I have seen the lows. Nothing has ever been like that night in the trailer bathroom. I can really understand why the addicts keep going back. Just like Dave found out you never, never get the first high again. I wonder if during those times was I laughing because I was happy or something was truly funny? Or was I simply high? I know now my laughter, my tears are real. And best of all I can remember what I cried or laughed about. I have been sober from drugs since early 1991 and from alcohol since New Years Day 1997. I'm free to live once again.