September 28, 2007

Protective Parenting

I tried, I swear to God I tried, but iTunes is not even meeting me halfway. We can’t even agree to disagree. It sits and sucks, and I stare and hate it. This is the relationship I am unfortunately in because, while I love my iPod, the interface with which I actually load music onto it sucks heretofore unknown ass.

On Wednesday night, I moved all my iTunes to the new computer—an ordeal in itself, because while what you should do is load it all onto a portable drive, then onto the new computer, then load iTunes onto the new computer—if you don’t know this? If you don’t do these exact steps? There’s no way to go back. iTunes will only scan the computer for music upon installation. If you skip this step, you must drag and drop the files and then delete any duplicates. And then go through clicking tracks to make sure the computer can actually “find” them again, even though you named the file “iTunes” and put it in the iTunes directory, like, I thought that I was making it easy, and it thought I was playing some sort of sneaky shell game. Small three-hour annoyance, but I have music again, so all is well.

Last night, I’m kicking myself for not Googling the name of a song I heard on a commercial, which is irritatingly catchy. I remember that, hey—I have internet at home now! I can sit on my couch and be online at the same time! So, I rest my hot cocoa on the endtable and hit power.


Hit power again. Nothing.

Unplug, replug, switch plugs. Nothing.

Hit power several time in rapid succession. Nothing.

I knew. iTunes had killed my computer.

I would have to send it back. My brand new, thousand dollar machine that was perfect and glossy and had all my programs loaded on it for a whole twelve hours—I would have to return it, wait an eternity for a different, foreign, unloved computer, and start over. No amount of non-manual-reading cajoling would bring it back to life. And it was my fault, I told it to trust iTunes. I said, “Here, Simon, go play with this shiny weird kid,” and it trusted me. I as good as killed it; I let it die.

I lumbered into my bedroom closet to hunt around in the Dell boxes (which I had not thrown out just in case lightning struck my laptop and it needed to get sent back because I am paranoid and a good thing too because not turning on) for the support manual. I call Dell. It is 8:00 pm. I wait.

A few minutes of explaining to a patient Indian man how sweet and young and naive my laptop was (is!), he tells me how to turn the computer—which is actually powered on, with no display—off. He then tells me to unplug any docking stations or printers, except the power cable.

I say, “The only thing plugged in is my iPod dock, but the iPod isn’t in it.” He tells me to unplug it anyway, and see if it restarts.

It does. He says to restart it again, then plug the iPod dock in and restart it again, to make sure the computer will turn on if I want to keep it plugged in.

Now, I just sent my kid to go play with another kid, and somehow the other kid got bored, went home and watched TV while my kid ended up covered in bees. So what do I do? Do I trust the weird kid again? He doesn’t even want to talk about it; acts like it never happened—what else could go wrong? He could have died!

I plug it in, again. It restarts. We’re lucky.

My computer does not want to play with iTunes because they are not friends.

Oh, and the song is Feist’s “1234.” You’ll hear it on the new iPod commercial.


Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry you had to learn the hard way...shoulda got a MacBook :o)

Love and kisses,
Jenatlargenopun (never really gets old)

Sarah Beedoo said...

Oh, yes--then instead of one functionally-inept program, I'll have two. I'm sure they work well enough together, in their own snobby clique, but any PC programs and they take their ball and go home. I'm neither that hoity nor toity, so I can't indulge that behavior. Also, they're silly-looking.