 He has always been a pretty resourceful fellow, however. His way of
dealing with this very annoying anomaly was to sit in a seat
directly behind one of his classmates and tell them not to slouch.
Then he would simply rest the screen on his classmate's back and all
would be well … unless his classmate sneezed. In that case, his
laptop would slam shut on my son's fingers, prompting him to howl a
word that is not appropriate in a classroom setting.
It might have
been possible to put up with that inconvenience if he didn't also
have to deal with the disk drive popping out randomly like a
jack-in-the-box. He'd place a disk in the drive, close the drive,
wait 10 seconds, and it would fly back out again. In … out. In …
out. In … out… It was like a mini surprise party, every 10 seconds,
until it finally decided to stay in long enough for the computer to
read it. Sometimes, however, my son didn't have time to wait for his
obnoxious laptop to make up its mind, so he would end up using the
computers at school and be late for his job.
Well, he's going to be taking summer classes this year, and he
won't always be able to depend on a friendly, non-slouching person
who never sneezes sitting in front of him, so he asked for our help
in procuring a more obedient laptop.
While shopping for computers is my husband's idea of nirvana, I'd
prefer to have a root canal. I just went along for the ride. It was
my job to keep them grounded and make sure they didn't buy a hot rod
when all they needed was a two-door sedan.
We went to several stores and looked at a number of … numbers.
Numbers like 9800, 512 and 10x15. Those numbers were littered with
letters like RAM and GB and DVD. My husband silently considered, my
son drooled, and I yawned.
[to top of second column]
 |
 We looked at different "packages." They all looked the same to
me, so I based my opinion on whether there were any rebates or
"instant savings" and whether the name of the package sounded
expensive. I nixed the "Jet-Setter Package" because it sounded like
something only Paris Hilton could afford. My son didn't want
anything Paris Hilton would want anyway.
They stroked keyboards lovingly, listening for a certain kind of
click. If the click was just right, it made it to the list of
contenders. The sales clerk looked at me as if I had suddenly
sprouted donkey ears when I asked about a particular laptop's
behavior and whether it did what it was told.
Finally we lit on a laptop that was the equivalent of a hot rod
for geeks at the price of a two-door sedan. It had all the right
numbers and letters, which pleased my husband. It looked like
something out of Bill Gates' wet dreams, which pleased my son. And
most of all, the price was something I knew my son could afford on
his part-time salary, which pleased me.
We introduced my son to the store's no-interest payment plan, and
I could sense his body literally vibrating in glee as he signed the
paperwork that would make that laptop his own.
I remember that feeling. It happened 21 years ago when I signed
for his birth certificate.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info. |
