January 6, 2014

           Fred—if you can read this than I just did what they said was impossible. Here’s a photo of how I managed. I harnessed these two computers together and let them battle it out. This is the part they don’t teach this generation. Sorry kids, but you have to know two things you don’t learn in computer school. Namely what you are doing and how to think. Those are two things that don’t arrive with your student loans. Ha!

           This particular setup was more complicated than it had to be, as I needed the special power settings on the old computer to power the new controller. That’s why you see things like two keyboard and a host of external hard drives. What was the key? DOS. They don’t teach DOS any more. But if I can see it in DOS, I can copy it. That’s most of what is going on here. All the “lost” files are moving (similar to a copy) over to a new administrator account.
           But Google spyware taught me a lesson. I’m setting up a third computer that does nothing but make backups and keep the Internet confined to one area of one hard drive that can be completely recovered instead of anti-virused. That’s what went wrong, when I used a rootkit anti-virus, Google Update systematically began overwriting my new files with versions from August last year. In this lifetime, you will learn to hate Google.
           Anyway, all the really important files are saved. The panic was that when the Google update began to fight back, it somehow found all changes done since my last non-differential backup, which was August last year. That is confusing, let me do better. Think of it that when I do a differential backup, it is only the files that have changed since the last time I did a backup. How Google did this with spyware is mysterious indeed. These recoveries are a great relief.
           Immediately afterward I said it is relax time, so I biked up to the club. I knew there was nothing there but a sports game on TV. Where there are nothing but noisy, uneducated men and the odd equally unintelligent older woman who thinks her chances for the odd free beer are improved if she pretends to be a fan. Disgusting, really. Fine, I’m not there to meet my next wife and I’ve got that $60 electric blanket at home, the one from Colorado. It doesn’t work in the camper but is toasty warm back at the ranch. And it is dropping to 45 degrees tonight. The dead of winter.
           Let me pause to serve up some advice at his juncture. Don’t be one of those 200,000+ ass-clowns who show up in Florida every year thinking the weather will make them smarter or more active. Nope. It doesn’t work that way. Ask you self what you currently do when it is that temperature? If you had to struggle with that, trust me, stay put. If you have zero nothing going for you where you are now, moving to less-than-intelligent Florida is asking for trouble.
           Cold it was. Down to 58 inside the house and 44 outside. I have two space heaters and half that English novel to finish. The metaphors are a hoot. “Tight as a nun’s knickers”. “Hotter than a curate’s dream.” You don’t have a slice of toast, it is a “fragment”. I can’t but wonder if the English do it because they think it makes them sound more cultured than they really are. That’s why my brother does it.

           This is a photo of the poor man’s GPS. The TomTom people make it clear—after you buy the product—that using it outdoors is not advised. While I never actually left it in the rain, it got as damp as it would on a car dash if you left the window open. Thus, I had to navigate with a mapquest clip on my handlebars.
           Miguelito drove over to show me the parts he managed to find. These Chinese have long since learned the Cadillac scam of selling the complete assembly when only one part of it consistently breaks. That’s when knowing people who know people saves you the money.
           Anyway, thanks for dropping in for a visit. This is the quiet time of year.