Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Mighty Mouse—Here I Am To Save the Day

Mighty Mouse—Here I Am To Save the Day

When, day after day, I use a particular tool, I develop a fondness for it. Take my van, Roshanna, for example. You might say she’s my twice bought van. I bought her fresh from the factory in 1997 and over the years, piece by piece, I have purchased most of her parts again. Roshanna loves a good road trip. Together we have racked up two-hundred six thousand miles. I take care of her and she takes care of me.

Then there is my favorite staple gun—the one I reach for first. I call her Miss Kitty. She’s light weight and faster than Matt Dillon, my backup gun. I own a dozen hammers, each for a different use, but the one I call Hank has the most balanced heft in my hand.

So imagine my consternation when Monday morning early I sat down at my computer to compose a report and discovered that my mouse, if not dead, was in a state of stupor. I wiggled it. The arrow on the screen refused to move. The cursor was cursed. I checked its cable, yep, plugged in solidly. I tugged on all the cables, just in case. Everything was plugged in and turned on. Yet I could not open any window, program or file.

I heard my Son the Computer Geek whisper in my metaphorical ear, “Reboot the computer, Mom.” That is what he always tells me when in desperation I phone him with a computer glitch. I shut everything down, turned off the switch, and pulled the power cord. I said to myself, “Don’t panic.” I walked away and made the bed.

When I returned and reversed the above process, my mouse, which looked perfectly normal, still would not scitter across the page. So I repeated all the above. I plugged, unplugged and re-plugged. No change.

Mic, my mouse, is special. I’m quite fond of him. I remember years ago griping about my previous mouse which I neither liked nor named. We had a personality conflict or the vibes were not right or our signs weren’t compatible, something. Ben hooked up Mic and said, “Try this one.”

It was love at first touch. Mic has a lovely curved body which fits the exact shape of my hand. At the front, he has a large beautiful red ball which I can manipulate smoothly—zip-zip—all over the page. Most of my friends don’t care for this type mouse. For me, Mic is perfect.

I needed my mouse. My son, Ben, was a time zone away. I hate to bother him on the job unless I have an emergency. This was an emergency. I had to write my report for a meeting. Ben did not answer my call. I left a message.

Ah, ha! I remembered I had a back-up mouse, the ordinary push kind. My computer sits on an ancient library table with three drawers. I found the mouse, a gift from Triangle Communications, in the third drawer. It had a three-foot cord. Grrr. I needed six feet to reach the computer tower under my desk. So I had to shift everything on my desk in order to lug the tower up onto it. I had to re-route all the cables. All this with a broken wrist, blood, sweat and tears. Still no call from Ben.

I was writing my report with Awkward Ugly Mouse when a friend called me. I told him my sad story. I mentioned that “one time my mouse had quit working when a piece of lint was trapped beneath the ball. I’m sure that isn’t the problem this time. Besides, I’d have to turn on my air compressor and build up the pressure just to get a fifteen-second blast of air and then drain and bleed it again. Too much bother.”

He must have been sitting by his computer at the time because he asked me for Mic’s model number. I gave it. He whistled. “That IS a special mouse. Listen to this. On this website you can get a new one for five-hundred dollars but there is only one left. Or you can buy from the eight used ones at one-hundred forty and up or get the refurbished one for two-hundred thirty.”

“That can’t be right. It’s just a mouse. They’re cheap,” I argued.

“Look it up yourself,” he said.

“Good-by,” I said. I fired up my air compressor, took Mic over to my work table and blew all around the ball with my air tool. I went back to my computer, unhooked Awkward Ugly, hooked Mic back up and he worked like a charm.

Now, what would you do?

For Sale: Used Trackball mouse of a certain model, perfect condition, charming personality, not a scratch, ding or blemish. A bargain at $250.00.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

December 6, 2012

1 comment:

  1. My mouse has no Tale - nor Name - Nor Tail. Wireless. ;o)