This column hardly arrived this week. That would have been a shame, since this is my 1,500th newspaper column. 1,500 weeks ago, I started writing a humor column for a newspaper, but a computer glitch nearly cut it off.
This morning, my computer stopped connecting to Wi-Fi. No problem; it happens sometimes, but it’s easy to fix.
The usual.
I did everything I was supposed to do, including turning my computer’s Wi-Fi off and on. Restart your router. Swear to your cable company. Make sure your bills are paid. Please check for power outages. Please swear more. Restart your computer.
In most cases, these will solve your problem and you’ll soon be watching cat videos and yelling at your political opponents.
But sometimes that’s not enough. No matter what you do or how much you curse the cable company, it won’t work.
Now is the time to take drastic measures. Dust off your old books, draw a pentagram on the floor, make a sacrifice, and chant the ancient chant, “Siri, call tech support.”
“Technical Support, this is Rick. How can I help you?”
Of course, that’s not his real name. He won’t tell you his real name, because you can banish him from this realm forever.
“Unable to connect to Wi-Fi.”
Could it be the groans of an abomination on the other side? Or just other technical support people?
“Sorry to hear you’re having trouble with the Wi-Fi,” Rick said, reciting part of the ritual the Ancient One had created. He continued, “First, let’s restart your router.”
“I already did that,” you say. A groan of agony echoes above the other voices in the background.
“I know you think so, but we really need to be sure.”
“Look, I did it, I’m telling you! I unplugged it, counted to 30 seconds, then plugged it back in.”
“Sorry, please count to 60 seconds.” Last time I did this, I was told 30 seconds.
“Okay, that’s it. I pulled the plug.”
“It says it’s still connected to the system.”
“Do you? Seriously? Then why can’t you use your stupid system to fix my router?”
“This is what the Dark Lord ordered. Highly trained IT specialists told us.”
“Can’t I reboot from my side?” you ask, and that’s not unreasonable.
Rick looks almost… hungry. “Oh, no, you have to invite us to your house first.”
“I don’t need a service call,” you protest. “Please don’t send anyone here.”
I think I hear Rick’s curse followed by another groan of agony. “Please restart your router. We will wait.”
Your router is so old that it may not survive one more reboot, let alone until the lease expires. When I turn the crank handle, I cough and gasp, black smoke rising from the exhaust.
After 20 minutes of awkward conversation, Rick tries to enroll you in an MLM program, but the check engine light goes out and the green light on the router comes on.
“My system says everything is fine,” Rick said, a little disappointed. “Wouldn’t you like a representative of our company to visit? He can come any time after sunset, but please don’t leave a Bible, holy water, etc.”
“No, it’s fine!” You quickly hang up.
I skipped all this. I’ve been through enough of his Wi-Fi exorcisms that I didn’t need Rick to tell me about Wifi 101, especially since every other device in the house was working.
A quick Google search on my phone showed me other things to try, some of which I knew of, but none of them worked.
Is this okay? Was this the end of my computer? Will my column streak end? Will we reach 1,500 or will we miss one?
I unearthed a forgotten article buried deep in the grave of a long-forgotten IT priest. I tore the book from his skeleton, but I could barely decipher the Latin inscription.
The idea was to remove certain files embedded in your computer’s operating system. This was just old magic! Tinkering with the operating system can have world-shaking consequences. It’s like reaching into your car’s engine and pulling out a random wire because someone on the internet told you to.
I raised my arm and said a spell, deleted the file, and shut down the computer.
The sky darkened, clouds rolled in, and I reached for the power button with trembling fingers. “Life! Please give life to my computer!” I cried to the heavens.
A chime like a church bell rang in the distance, and my computer started up. I opened my browser and entered the web address.
It was a miracle! The angels rejoiced, the choir sang, and everything returned to normal. The magic worked and the computer came to life again.
It was a close call, but everything worked out. I just hope you’re ready for next time. Because you’re scratching at the door, hoping Rick will invite you to a service call.
