Little Compy – LC to family and good friends – is dying a slow and painful death right before my eyes. It’s sad to watch. His once shiny white case is smudged and dinged with the scars of a hard life. His screen is scratched and imprinted with the outline of the keyboard. His battery is drained, lasting only 20 minutes per charge. And his plug only connects to sideways outlets, and not even all of them. LC has lost all his advantages as a laptop and embraced all the drawbacks. The end is near. My heart aches for the poor machine who’s helped me through three layoffs and job searches. But his time has come.
LC continues to give his all, chugging away at my every keystroke and mouse click, bless his little, overworked processor heart. But the high-powered world of job search and unemployment blogging has passed him by. My competition is stiff, relentless, and his best is no longer good enough. As I type on his temporary replacement, in a coffee shop many subway stops away, Little Compy is asleep at home, dreaming of a simpler world. His next stop is the digital glue factory, or at least a demotion to music server. And deep down in the recesses of his CPU, he knows.
I first noticed the decline around the start of Jobless and Less so many months ago. LC had trouble loading new web pages crammed with job listings and
I started closing applications not in use to ease the work load and extend his life. I even bulked up his memory, performing the delicate surgery on my dining room table with the help of my furry assistants. Both solutions proved to be temporary fixes. Soon
I mostly work on wifey’s laptop these days. This temporary machine may have a name, but I don’t know it well enough to care yet. She’s at work all day and uses her desktop computer at home anyway. I’ve copied over some important files and added some bookmarks to her browser. But my music and most of my files are still in Little Compy’s possession. He refuses to go quietly. Up until yesterday her computer was still showing the effects of the WordPress 2.8 upgrade. LC, for his part, had somehow managed to adapt. So he retains a bit of usefulness, a smidgen of his former glory. It’s almost the end of an era; my first post-college Mac is about to die. He soon will be replaced by a new Mac – one who is bigger, stronger and shinier. I think I’ll call him Big Macky.
Help me replace Little Compy with Big Macky and not max out my credit card by