Simple fixes.

Our office had been promised new computers for months. I was excited about the idea — but still harbored a few reservations.
Teaching this old dog new tricks can be painful — for everyone involved. I’m a bit of a skeptic when it comes to “the latest and greatest.” Let someone else work out the kinks, first — that’s what I say. From what I’ve experienced — all technology has its limits — and so does my brain.
The day finally came for the new wave of technology to arrive. I couldn’t decide if I was happy or dreading the very thought of this “upgrade.”
The techno wizard — a very young man — proved exceptionally patient with me. I told him right up front — I’m difficult and I’m demanding and I’m not techno-savvy. Don’t disappoint me.
While Tech Boy was shoving me into the 21st century with giant flat-screen monitors and wafer-thin keyboards, I heard the sound of powertools in the upstairs apartment.
There’s a spacious three-bedroom abode above the Banner office that has all the charm and character of a 100-year-old building. The plumbers had been called in to make sure the bathtub remains upstairs.
As the unofficial landlady, it was my job to “supervise” the plumbers. Not that they really needed me, I just listened for someone tumbling down the 21 steps from the top floor to the street.
Obviously, the order of the day was to upgrade — new computers and a new bathtub. Everything was clicking — but that was only temporary.
Anyone notice how cool the room is?
The furnace — a monster dating from the 1950s — had refused to spit any hot air into the offices. It sat idle, tired, I suppose. The furnace guy is on our speed dial. Our monster heat machine requires a regular dose of TLC. I sent out the SOS and the furnace guy answered — as usual.
The tip of my nose was cold and my fingers were numb. The fuel tank had fuel oil but it wasn’t getting to the furnace. The line was checked; the pump — he told us — was to blame.
A simple standard part needed to be replaced. Crisis averted — at least temporarily.
We ought to consider an upgrade, the furnace guy advised. Eventually, we won’t have a choice.
Meanwhile, the plumbers were trying to make a 21st century bathtub work in a 19th century bathroom. They’re miracle workers and the job was done. The bathtub — or any bathwater — will not be dropping — or dripping — through the ceiling any time soon. Crisis again averted.
That left the Computer Kid. Like a mad man, he rewired the entire office. Old machines were carted out and new ones stationed in their places. Gone was the familiar, the comfortable. Staring back at me was something sleek, black and new. We certainly weren’t on the same wavelength yet. I ought to be impressed, right. I was intimidated.
The old dog in me spoke. I barked a couple times and wheeled my chair closer to the 20-inch screen.
Simple fix or crisis? We’ll have to wait and see.