Wednesday, July 28, 2010

OK, for better or worse, I'm back again. This time, I thought I'd discuss the most frightening thing that could happen to any computer owner outside of finding out you just shelled out $1200 for a laptop that is now on sale for $300, but it's outside the store's 30-day price matching guarantee. No, I'm talking about subjecting your psyche to the meatgrinder when you have to take your beloved laptop in for service. Truthfully, once I took my Vista running, software crashing, battery chewing, piece-of-shit Lenovo laptop in to the nearby Fry's for service, my sleep was forever (at least for the past 2 weeks) ruined. Here's why.

Back about three years ago, I purchased a bright and shiny loaded Lenovo laptop from the aforementioned Fry's Electronics in Anaheim. Now, I've been warned several times about buying from Fry's and their alleged lack of service. Personally, I never experienced any difficulties, so why stop buying there? Their prices are usually low, there is a lack of pressure (usually because the salespeople are too busy playing World of Warcraft at work on the laptops on display), and a decent selection. Long story short (HA!), I walked in, spoke with a gentleman who had a thick central Asian accent, and walked out with a laptop and a service contract (3 yrs.) for about $900. Good deal, yes? That's what I thought.

About 2 months down the road, Vista crashed. Shocking, I know. I followed the directions and reformatted the fucker. Just one catch; it (as you all know) erased everything including the pre-loaded software. Now, I'm not a big fan of pre-loaded crap on my computers. It slows things down and usually has no possible use for anyone other than software designers who were bored and wanted to come up with a cool program they thought everyone could use. But, I do use word processing programs like Office and WordPerfect. Both were loaded on the lappy; both went missing 45 min later. No problem, I'll just call the manufacturer and get a back-up CD. No, the IDIOTS at fucking Lenovo couldn't figure out what I was talking about (Me: You know, the software you guys put on before you ship the computer to the store. Them: Which store? Me: Why does that matter? Them: Because we put different software on machines for different stores. Me: Fry's Electronics Them: Who? Me: Fry's? One of the largest electronics retailers in the West? Them: Which state? Me: California, heard of it? Them: (with no sense of humor) Yes sir, I have. Me: Good, so can I get the programs? Them: What programs? Me: THE ONES YOU PEOPLE PUT ON THE COMPUTER BEFORE IT LEFT THE LAND OF LENOVO, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST AND ALL THE GODDAMN SAINTS! Them: No sir, you need to call sales. Me: *whimper*). They subsequently sent me on a two-day wild goose chase for a mythical back-up CD. Went to Fry's and asked the same question; got the same response along with a "Did you call the manufacturer?" Bottom line: Never buy a Lenovo (why do I bold their name? Just in case this blog comes up in a search for Lenovo computers. The truth will set the searcher free). But this is not what gave me sleepless nights. No, something far worse happened two weeks ago.

It all started with a fit of frustration over my sloth-like Lenovo (no bolding now, I'm lazy). I guess the nifty anti-virus software decided to do its virus sweeping thing just when I wanted to view a document, update a blog, and listen to music. Not much, right? Well the lightning-speed Lenovo froze. Having had enough of this craptastic machine, I gave it a love tap near the keyboard. Ooops. Everything stopped. I proceeded to give it a re-boot by turning off the machine. Upon restarting, the chkdsk application kicked in and everything quickly went to Hell. Not the imaginary hell that people believe they will go to if they don't tithe exactly 10% of their earnings to the place where they all go every weekend to hear the man in the front tell them that if they don't live exactly like a man 2000 years ago, they will surely end up in a pit surrounded by mythical beings with pitchforks and tails and look eerily like Bill Clinton. No, my hard drive went to the real Hell. The service department.

Remember, I said I bought that lovely laptop computer machine with a 3 year service agreement. Turns out that wasn't a completely bad idea. I took it in; explained the problem; stared at the service girl's boobs for a bit; got a loaner machine (wuddaya know, another Lenovo), and went home to await the verdict like an accused felon. When I told all my friends that I took the world's worst laptop in for service, they all had the same reaction;

Did you get rid of the porn?

Now I'm no pervert, and I'm damn sure no idiot, so I never save images on my hard-drive. If I visit the occasional site with adult material, I make sure to use an "incognito" window that doesn't save anything in the cache (check out my computer smarts). So, I reassured my friends nothing was there to be found. Undaunted, they then asked, "What if they put child porn on there or something?" My brain went into an immediate and sickening spin. What if?

See, when you leave that machine with some unknown tech to do things to it you don't really understand, it leaves you a little uneasy (to say the least). What's worse, you don't know if they could put things on your hard drive, change the code so it looks like it was loaded by your IP address, call the cops, and BAM! you find yourself re-examining everything you've ever done and every site you've visited. Think I'm being paranoid? Check this. See, it can happen. I hate to admit it, but I actually know a guy who had the aforementioned offending images found on his hard drive. He's finishing up his stint at Terminal Island.

So, for the past several days, I wondered. What the hell were they doing to my shitbag computer? Why haven't they called? When are the cops coming? What exercises should I start doing to get swole before I go to the joint? What type of martial art will help me the most? To put my mind at ease, I called and checked the status of th repair.

Me: Yeah, I was wondering what's going on with my laptop? It's there because I can't get it to boot.
Them: Let me check.
Me: (to myself) Great, here comes the coded answer that means, "We turned it over to the FBI, you sick son-of-a-bitch."
Them: Uh, we can't find an AC adapter to power it up.
Me: Really?
Them: Uh, yeah. That's what it says. No cord.
Me: Reeeeealllly?
Them: Uh, yeah. You can call back later.
Me: No, that's cool. Tell the tech to call me when he figures it out.

Here I was worried that some MIT grad making $12/hr was going to make his stones by catching a perv, even if it meant framing the poor bastard, when they couldn't find the right power cord to turn the fucking thing on. Guess I am paranoid. Two days later they called me back and said they can't even access the hard drive because it's FUBAR (look it up) and it would cost me a minimum of $185 to retrieve any data. I just called them and told them to not do the repair. I'll figure it out myself and get my own data off the damaged goods.

So I guess the worst kind of hell we can imagine is the kind we can put ourselves through when we trust the knowledge and skills of others. Especially when it comes to computer technology. And as the random poster said in the link above, the best way to clean your hard drive is with an 8lb sledge and an angle grinder.

Word, my man. Word.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

With time on my hands, I figured you all have suffered enough, so I'm bringing back my blog. I can't guarantee brilliance on a daily basis, but I can deliver a thought or a giggle on occasion (provided it's not some sort of religious holiday). If you are easily offended, I suggest you hit the escape button now, as it doesn't get any prettier from here.

Once I remember how to make things look good, I'll be doing that as well. Prepare yourself, world.

I'm back. (cue menacing music here)