Apropos of Easter, my iPhone and my laptop are resurrected from the dead. Thanks be to God.
Before anything else, I would like to greet one and all a Blessed Easter! May we find in the Risen Lord, our redemption that He suffered and died for. May we always be grateful for His love and generosity towards us mortal, often undeserving, human beings.
I had two major scares last week. Suddenly, my laptop stopped working. The memory of my eight year old Acer was filled to the brim. There was no more space for data of any kind.
I have an urgent project with a tight deadline lined up. Should I buy a new laptop? After all, my Acer is eight years old. She has served me well in my work as editor of books, writer of columns and producer of published reports. She has kept me in touch with the world. Perhaps it was time to retire her?
Hold the drama, I was told. You can’t afford a new laptop. Buy a one terabyte external disc drive to back up your files so your laptop can be restored to factory settings. It worked like magic. My Acer lives.
The second scare involved my iPhone. On my last day in San Francisco, it refused to charge. I tried to charge it at the airport, in the plane, on my power bank, but nada. It was dead. When I landed in Manila, it was difficult to find the driver who was sent to pick me up. Without a working cellphone, I was totally helpless. I hadn’t memorized anyone’s cell number or landline except my own. I didn’t need to. It was all in my cellphone. So any offer of help from the uniformed factotums at the NAIA was for naught.
I used a landline in a sari-sari store at the parking area to call my home and tell them about my dilemma. My cook was very efficient. Using Facebook Messenger, she asked my daughter Glory, who was in Vietnam, to send the phone numbers I needed to help me find the driver.
All’s well that ends well? Naaah.
In the car, my phone jumped back to life and charged quickly. I was overjoyed. My phone was alive! But not for long. At home, the battery drained quickly and it charged slowly. Was it my charger cord or the battery? It was hard to tell. For the entire week, I watched my phone sputter until last Saturday at a meeting, my iPhone finally and definitely died.
I brought it to the Power MAC Service Center in Greenbelt 5. My battery was kaput. It had to be changed but the man at the counter said it could take from two hours to two-to-three days, depending on the availability of the battery in their stockroom. They had the battery in stock. However, the diagnostic would take an hour after which he would tell me if it was just a simple battery replacement which would cost P1,500, or if there were other things wrong with the phone, in which case, it would cost more. Or, my unit would be replaced, for only P3,120, but it would take two to four weeks to order the unit from Singapore.
I left my phone at the service center and prayed as I walked over 4,000 steps for an hour, according to my Fitbit. When I returned, I was told my phone was fine and only the battery had to be replaced.
Apropos of Easter, my iPhone and my laptop are resurrected from the dead. Thanks be to God. And to the Power MAC Service Center.
I never realized my total dependence on my gadgets until I was hit by this double whammy that made me feel so unconnected to my world. How has this happened? Whatever happened to the address books we would carry in our purses where every phone number and address was written down in neat cursive handwriting? Whatever happened to handwritten letters sealed in envelopes, stamped and dropped in mailboxes? Or the diary where we scribbled out deepest secrets and aspirations?
My Underwood typewriter was bulky, my copy was never prefect, but it was totally dependable. I did all my term papers in college, wrote letters, and later, my articles for the Manila Chronicle, pounding on those heavy keys.
Of course, I welcomed the computer, from our first VIC20 at home to the early MACs at work, to the family’s first table top, to my first laptop, my output increased and my efficiency improved. It was a treat being so easily connected to my brethren and friends abroad. No more expensive phone calls. No more snail mail that took at least two weeks to get anywhere. Now, with my IPhone, I can chat with my sibling in Florida from anywhere and in real time. How can I not love technology?
But I no longer have to use longhand and my handwriting has gone to pot. And having gone through this latest trauma, I now have this need to simplify my expectations. We are constantly reminded to back up our files. From now on, I will. Manually.
Note to self: Write down all important phone numbers in a handy notebook that you keep in your purse. You may never need it but it is a comfort knowing it is there when you need it most.