SUCCESS

 Despite my complete lack of technical abilities, I managed to fix my errant laptop and retrieve my files. I was initially going to call for technical help, but decided to tackle the problem on my own. I like to think for myself and use what's left of my mind.

It wasn't an easy endeavor. I struggled with the computer from early afternoon until late at night. I eventually won.

Most of the ugly details are too tedious to mention. I put the computer into "safe" mode and ran System Restore. That took nearly two hours. When the process finally finished, I got a rude message stating that it was unsuccessful - due to the fact that my anti-virus shield was running. Could I please turn it off and try again?

Right. There's only one problem - - when the computer is in "safe" mode, there's absolutely no way to access the anti-virus mechanisms.

Have you ever tried to exit from the safe mode? It is nearly a complete impossibility.  A miracle from the Divine Creator is required. After hours of intense struggles, I finally solved the problem by venturing into the unknown realm of System Configurations, where I was  able to clobber and dismantle the pesky safe mode.

Anyway, my laptop is behaving normally again. At least for the moment. And I have all my files again. At least for the moment.

Now I can return to my pending problems - - like the flooded bathroom, the dead car, the dead furnace, the errant water heater, the infestation of mice, the lack of food and money.......AND my seriously injured spine, which has rendered my inability to walk.

Life is an absolute joy, filled with God's blessings.

Anyway, I'm still kicking, and I'll try to resume blogging soon (??) - - as long as I'm still alive and have retained a smidgen of my mental capacities. 

Many thanks to all the good people who haven't (yet) abandoned me.

And those who have abandoned me - - 
you have good taste.

                                       Jon

IN THE VERY MIDST OF NOTHING

I live in rural Tennessee all alone.
Can't get a cell phone signal here.
No longer have television.
One of the very few radio stations I can get is a college station from Kentucky.
I live a few miles from Kentucky. 
Hello, Daniel Boone.

My every day life is one of isolation.  It's no sacrifice. It's my choice. I've gone the Big City Route many times in my past. It was fun when I was a reckless kid. Lately - in my petrified and introspective years - I prefer being Hermitized.
I think I made that word up.

I admittedly rely solely on the computer as my Gateway to the World. It's where I get news and weather, watch movies, listen to music, keep in touch with humanity, and a thousand other things.
Without it, I'm lost.

Cut to the chase, Jon. You're putting people to sleep with this unnecessary crap.

My crap is never unnecessary, Kemosabee.
The "chase" started last Thursday, when I suddenly and inexplicably couldn't get an Internet connection on my computer. It's happened several previous times, but always resolved itself within a couple hours.
This time there was no resolution.

I consulted with Windows Troubleshooter.

Problem:
Can't access the Internet.

The mysterious diagnostic process lasted twenty minutes. At least.

Result:
Your computer has no access point to the Internet.

With that helpful information under my belt, I delved further (farther??) into Troubleshooter and received more useless information. 
Eventually, they provided me with several bogus suggestions, such as

Consult a reliable friend for help
(I swear to God, this was one of the suggestions!).

Hell, I haven't  had a reliable friend since Howdy Doody was on television....but that's beside the point.

Consult your Internet provider technician.

On Friday night I consulted my Internet provider technician.
The phone call lasted well over an hour, while he and I exhausted every possibility to resolve the issue with no positive result.

He was extremely polite and did his very best to be helpful, but we got nowhere. 
Kinda like a first date.

The technician finally decided that a computer expert should be sent to my house on Monday.
Next came a barrage of personal health questions.

This initially startled me, until I remembered the grim threat of the Black Plague Coronavirus.

Was I feeling ill?
Have I been in contact with anyone who was ill?
Have I been exposed to any known virus or any possible carrier of a virus?

When I finally convinced him that me and my two cats were pure as the wind-driven snow and no threat to the world at large, I was told that I'd get a call on Monday.

I spent a long, miserable weekend severed from the Internet.......but I did manage to drive to town VERY early on Saturday to get some supplies (that's another story to soon be told).

Early Monday morning I got a call from another technician who spent another hour trying to resolve my computer issue...with no results.

Finally, an expert was dispatched to my house. He arrived just before noon - - a huge, heavy, burly guy arrayed in a surgical mask and blue plastic gloves. 

To make an extremely long story short (which, at this point, is a complete impossibility)....

.....he worked for over two hours - installing new wiring, changing the mysterious "fiber optic box", installing a new router......and other things I could never figure out or comprehend.

The result:
by late afternoon I was connected to the Internet again and finally in contact with the world.

It's a good feeling.


   

DISCONNECTED

Disconnected? Me?? Heck, no.

My computer. Disconnected from the Internet. For nearly two days. Which is  an eternity for someone like me, who depends on the computer as my lifeline to the outside world.

I only threw in "lifeline" to add colorful dramatization to the situation.

I tried every possible ploy to remedy the problem - which isn't easy for a complete technical dullard as myself.

Since both of my computers were Internetless (new word made up by me), I went to the assumed source of connection: the intricate maze of tangled wires and plugs nestled behind my desktop computer. 

To my myopic and technically untrained eyes, everything seemed to be connected and in working order.

But still no Internet.

I tried to get various methods of off-line help - which included talking (via phone) to numerous clueless and unhelpful experts.

My long telephone quest for assistance eventually took me to a small town somewhere in India called WeloveDacows.

(ponder that carefully for awhile - it will eventually get funny). 

After several agonizingly long minutes  - during which I strained my aural capacities to understand an accent that was heavier than a lead doorstop - I was ready to hang up.

Being blessedly patient, however, I decided to stay on the line and wait for the East Indian diagnosis of my rural Tennessee problem. 

"Da poblum seeeem to be U disconeeected frum eenternit."

Translation:
"The problem seems to be that you're disconnected from the Internet." 

I went all the way to friggin' India for that???

I politely thanked the computer helpline assistant, while debating about calling the suicide helpline.

Note: I think I should have said suicide "HOTLINE", not "helpline"

Then, I summoned all of my masculine macho courage (which was packed away somewhere with my copy of Oscar Wilde's De Profundis).

I decided to tackle the root of the problem by going to the main source:  The Russians!

Oops. Sorry. 
I mean the mysterious modem box. The life source of my computers, which is stashed away on the floor in my bedroom - behind my desktop computer (I keep my laptop in the kitchen).

I messed with the modem box for several long minutes - pondering, contemplating, examining. 
Finally, I poked some sort of a reset button. Or something. 

EUREKA!

I was miraculously connected again. To the Internet.

A satisfactory explanation to this puzzling (but entertaining) post is in order. And it all has to do with my cat Bosco.

As incredible as it sounds, my cat Bosco has gotten into the habit of crawling in a corner of my bedroom floor and sleeping on the modem.

I swear to Gawd, I'm not making this up.

The modem feels warm and makes a low, soothing, humming sound. Bosco loves it. 
He must have inadvertently pressed one of the modem buttons with his ample ass.

So, Bosco was the source of my disconnection problems.

Case solved.

Jon, you're damn good. It's impossible to understand why those little Internet trolls hate you.