On cars, old, new and future; science & technology; vintage airplanes, computer flight simulation of them; Sherlockiana; our English language; travel; and other stuff
WIFE DOTTIE’s iMAC had been having problems, but maybe the hassle was solved in the dark hours by the Miracle of the Potatoes.
Potatoes are sacred in our family, so belief in this miracle is not difficult. Friends and the kids have given us potato memorabilia, potato Christmas tree ornaments and several potato-shape dishes. We usually keep our real potatoes stored on a shelf of the kitchen butcher block.
Also, it’s part of the tale that I keep my 20-pack of Diet Cokes next to the dishwasher, which is really our wine cellar.
The computer frustrations began when Wife Dottie’s bank required an update of her iMac’s operating system to be compatible with online banking. No big deal, I thought, until I discovered that the computer’s operating system seemingly may have been among the first ever developed by Messrs. Wozniak, Wayne and the late Jobs.
Yes, we hadn’t updated it in awhile. Any attempt to use the menu-driven process failed, until Daughter Suz, bless her, suggested, “Google is Our Friend.” In a few clicks and a 2 hour 8 minute download, the computer now had Apple OS X El Capitan, the same operating system on the machine I’m using as I write this.
Alas, new problems arose. In adopting this new OS, the computer refused to accept Wife Dottie’s email password (it wanted to know her “favorite city,” something neither of us remember ever sharing, even with each other). Also, the computer pretended it didn’t recognize the printer, which resides six feet away and had hitherto been the best of friends.
Everything had been okay until the bank asked for that upgrade. All this occurred during the extended Thanksgiving weekend, when we were averse to enlisting help of any holiday-deprived Tech Support person, especially what with having such a good time with our relatives.
Then came the Miracle of the Potatoes.
I woke up at 4 a.m. intent on giving the computer one more try. First I went to the kitchen to get a Diet Coke–and there in the Diet Coke 20-pack was a bunch of potatoes!
Shaken by this discovery, I retrieved another one (Diet Coke, not potato) from the fridge and went to the computer. Wife Dottie’s password, with only the slightest workaround, worked fine.
Then, a bit baffled by this good fortune, I attempted to print the bank’s acknowledgement–and, wouldn’t you know, the computer recognized the printer too.
The only clue to this Miracle of the Potatoes came later, maybe 4:20 a.m., when I checked my own email and found one from Wife Dottie posted at 3:33 a.m. (We fear no burglars at our place because seemingly someone is always awake.)
How this fixed the computer, I have no idea. ds
© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays, 2016