The reason we bought the CD-ROM in the first place was to plug in some
of those wonderful CD-ROM programs that are being touted as the latest thing
for education and entertainment. The kids wanted the San Diego Zoo, the Mayo
Clinic, Myst, and neat stuff like that. I wanted research tools, and,
well... some games.
There are CD-ROM programs out there that will teach you how build a house
or a space shuttle, or even landscape the Taj Mahal. Others will let you
play chess with every master that ever lived. And of course, there are CDs
that will let you fight Giant Hermaphrodite Beast Warriors from the Planet
Spandex, and so on - we wanted them too.
But what the kids wanted more than anything was a program that, for $80,
shows you the inside of the human body in vivid, colourful, gruesome detail.
Well, it's educational, I thought, so why not?
The people who make CDs will tell you the great thing about them is that
they are so easy to install and use. All you have to do is pop the disk into
the drive, and the program is all set to go. Too good to be true? You bet.
"Insert disk, and type 'install'," it said on the disk containing the
human body program. Piece of cake, I thought. Even I can do that. "Your ZWK
does not match your LIMO DRIVERS," it said on the computer screen.
"Reformat your EWE and RAM, and retry."
"Where are the pictures of the inside of the body?" asked my daughter.
"Just a sec, hon. Let me try again."
Install!
"Your BIOS MEM.SAV.COM is missing," the screen said. "See owner's manual
to install, or buy hardware from dealer in Palo Alto, and reboot."
"I don't see anything on the screen, dad. Where are the pictures of all
the guts and stuff?"
As I saw it, I had two choices. Either call the 1-800 number included
with the program and wait two or three months for someone to answer... or
call in a pro. Known to most people as mild-mannered Don Hughes, computer
consultant by both day and night, Don is known around our house as - Super
Computerguy. Whenever we have problems with the system (usually several
times a day) we shine a strong light with the SC logo up into the clouds to
summon our legendary superhero. And, if that doesn't work ... we call him on
the phone.
As befits a true superhero, Don is able to solve complex configurations
in an instant, leap tall programming bugs in a single bound, and is faster
than a speeding device driver. "Thank goodness you're here, Super
Computerguy!" we all shout, "Look, nothing happens when we press on the
keyboard!"
And with nerves of steel and eyes like an eagle - an eagle that needs
reading glasses, that is - he comes to the rescue: "Have you turned the
computer on?" Super Computerguy knows everything there is to know about how
computers work. He even knows how to find columns and stories I wrote months
ago and have lost somewhere in Cyberspace. Click, click, click. Super
Computerguy will go on the keyboard, and, presto, there it all is - in
alphabetical order.
"All you have to do is re-write your AUTOEXEC.FLAP" Super Computerguy
says. "RAM a surcharge into the FAT LIMO DRIVER, and..." at which point my
mind turns to potato soup, and I find myself thinking about the last episode
of Seinfeld -superhero talk is way over my head. And as Super Computerguy
leaves the house, and once again slips into his mild-mannered alter-ego,
everybody heaves a sigh of relief: we can rest easy, knowing that our hero
of tomorrow is but a phone call away.
And just in case anyone is doubting the believability of a story that
portrays computer consultants as the new, superhero kind of male role-model,
let me refer to an article by Scott Adams, creator of the comic strip
"Dilbert", in the May issue of Windows Magazine. Adams describes men who
work with computers as the new sex symbols of the '90s. "Knowledgeable
computer users will evolve into godlike non-corporeal beings who rule the
universe," he writes, "while non-computer users... will grow tails, sit in
zoos and fling dung at tourists."
Super Computerguy action figures, complete with tiny bifocals, briefcase,
and removable pocket-protector, should be on the market in time for
Christmas.