Of error messages & friendly advice

On Christmas day, Windows greeted me with this message:

USB Device Not Recognized

One of the USB devices attached to this computer has malfunctioned, and Windows does not recognize it.

Bill Gate’s blasted operating system was mighty insistent about it, too, pestering me at fifteen-second intervals. Most annoying, especially since I didn’t have a clue how to fix the problem.

So in the time-honored tradition of tech idiots the world over, I ignored it. Hey, the computer was running fine, save for that pesky popper. I knew I would have to deal with it sooner or later, but between busy workdays (when you’re in retail you work the holidays for all its worth) and the all-night parties, I managed not to get too worked up about it. A minor wonder, that. I’m obsessive-compulsive after all.

Today was the day the scales tipped. Today I was watching a movie on my PC when I noticed that the audio sounded a bit funny. No kidding. It repeated itself, like it had been afflicted with echolalia. It wasn’t funny, actually, and I could put two and two together, could I not? What are the chances that the malfunctioning USB device has something to do with the hinky audio? I asked myself. The answer: A damned good one. In fact, it made perfect sense. Fault my logic all you want, but there it was.

And so the hunt for a fix began. What was one to do when all Windows could offer by way of advice was to re-install the device (like I even knew what it looked like, duh), and if that still didn’t do the trick, to replace it? Ah, but I knew what to do all right: I googled it!

My faith in the alpha god of search engines was not misplaced. I can report that not only does a solution exist, but that it requires just the most rudimentary knowledge of computers to carry out. Maybe you will suffer a bit from Internet withdrawal, but the psychological damage won’t be permanent — let’s hope.

This is how it’s done: Turn off the computer and unplug it. Let it rest for 30 minutes, plug it back in, and fire up that fucker. Bingo — problem fixed!

Apparently, the culprit was residual electricity building up inside the hardware, and the solution was to let that pent-up electricity discharge by unplugging the computer. Simple, is it not? Electricity I understand. Electrical discharge, even more so. That shit hurts, man. I can wrap my mind around that. As to why it led Windows to think that a USB device had malfunctioned when it hadn’t, I don’t care for an explanation. The annoying error bubble has stopped popping up and that’s all I care about.

Anyway, that episode had me thinking what a wonderfully weird sense of humor the world has (Windows, I maintain, has none). I mean, if I had the technical know-how I would have ripped that computer apart, tinkered with the registry, or reformatted the hard drive trying to fix the problem. Maybe being a moron has its merits, after all. But that advice about unplugging the computer — it’s counter-intuitive, you have to agree. After all, we’ve been taught to tackle problems head-on. To deal with it. To never give up. To take it like a man. Unplugging your computer? Wimp.

And yet the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It reminded me of that laughably simple but sage advice: “Don’t dwell on a problem. Sleep on it. Maybe the situation will resolve itself in the morning.” You know — pull the plug, tune out, if for a little while, and maybe the residual electricity that’s messing with your brain will drain away and clear your head.

And as these things go, I was suddenly put in mind of an email a friend sent me days before the wave of holiday partying began. The subject line — Booze Control Patrol — said it all. The rest of the message was a bit painful to read for its pithiness: “Slow down on the drinking,” it said. “I don’t want you getting sick.” If you must know, my standard admonition to that friend is “Don’t work too much,” while his to me is… well, I just told you, didn’t I?

But did I listen? What do you think? Temperance has never been my chief virtue, never mind if I wake up most mornings with what feels like a Category 5 storm raging inside my skull — and vow to never, ever, touch another drop of alcohol again for as long as I live, so help me God.

You do know what’s in a storm, don’t you? Wind, rain — and electrical discharge. No shit.