Hey Presto

I'm sure I've said this before and I'm equally sure that every one of you out there are incredulous at the prospect. I'll go so far as to say that you probably don't believe it. Hell, I don't blame you. With my track record I don't believe I believe it myself. But it's true: I can be taught. And self taught no less.

In trying to get my writing career, such as it is, off the ground, I've resurrected a manuscript which I hadn't touched in about 15 years. When I decided to work on it I first had to find it. You know how computers are: everything's right there on your monitor or on your hard drive. If, and this is a big if, you remember how and where and under what title and form you saved it. That's when we discover HOW COMPUTERS ARE. They are literal. Very, precisely literal. Maddeningly, frightfully, disgustingly literal. A capital letter which should be small and, hey presto, your friendly Dell has no idea what the hell you're talking about.

Still, I managed to find the document. And it was blank, blanker than a Democrat's mind (insert Republican if it makes you feel better and I'm very sorry I offended you please don't cancel me) even though the word count function insisted there were more than 62,000 of them. What to do, what to do.

I selected 'copy' for the entire document, copied it, opened a new text document window and, hey presto, it appears, visible words and all, in the new window. Only rather than quote marks at the start and ending of someone speaking there were vertical lines. Again, who to do etc.

I select copy all again, copied the entire document again, pasted into an open text window of a different writing program and, wait for it... wait for it...hey presto! The entire manuscript was there, and with quote marks around spoken words and phrases.

So I can be taught. Inspiration, where do you come from? And now I get to begin submitting what will hopefully soon be another book, one of them novels we hear so much about. Hey presto, it could happen.

Dadburn Literal Computers

I just went through an excruciatingly aggravating episode with my AOL account. I kept getting told that my password was incorrect, even though I was sure I had been typing it in quite correctly. I was at the point of hitting every key quite precisely to be absolutely certain that AOL and my computer understood my intent.

In my mind I was doing everything right, of course. But somehow AOL wasn't accepting that quite obvious fact, and I was getting very angry.

Then I noticed that some numbskull who shall remain nameless (because it wouldn't be fair even to call him Cloyce in this instance) had hit the CAPS LOCK key. So of course AOL wasn't understanding my password. I was essentially hammering it in precisely the opposite of what it literally was. Make sense?

So I was mad at AOL, the Internet, and computers in general all the while the victim of my own mistake. I'm glad I didn't raise too much of a ruckus.

You Know You Know

You know how computers and electronics are literal, right? You know how this includes alarms and alarm clocks? You know how you have to set the clock for either AM or PM?

Yesterday morning I slept until 8:45 or so. Upon wiping the sleep from my eyes and realizing that it was clearly beyond 7 AM, I was incredulous how I might have missed my alarm. I knew I had set it. I was certain I had set it.

Of course, I had set it. For 7 PM. I didn't pay enough attention to the practical particulars. And I'm simply glad that all I had on the docket for Friday was working at the old barn. I suppose that's what happens when you're up from 2 in the morning until 5:30 and decide to take an extra nap.