Iâ€™m sure you all know Ziggy, the cartoon character who seems to have a perpetual black cloud over his head. You may call me Techno Ziggy.
As you know, I live in fear of fooling with Mr. Template, or anything that has the word â€œconfigâ€ in it. I wonldnâ€™t go near an SQL, even if I knew what it was. I am battle scarred from tangling ass with Mr. Laptop.
Still, I keep trying.
I got the message from Symantec informing me that my anti-virus software is about to expire.
I read the message with dread, as I sensed the dark cloud already beginning to form. Knowing that this was a task I could not ignore, lest my computer become completely devoured by viruses, I followed the links. In so doing, I learned that I could â€œrenewâ€ my current subscription, but that my current version (2002) is considered a cyber-relic not worthy of ownership (and not â€œsupportedâ€ â€“ I loathe that word). Clearly what I needed was the souped-up 2005 version.
I noted that the â€œcloudetteâ€ was beginning to become a genuine cloud.
I followed all the links, provided all the requested information, choosing the â€œdownloadâ€ version. I printed all my confirmations, and now it was time to click the â€œdownloadâ€ button and watch the magic happen. I stared at it for a while, hoping against hope that everything would work out fine. I took the plunge.
The download window appeared and, in short order, did nothing â€“ zero, zilch. The damnable thing just sat there in freeze mode only to be followed by one of those really scary â€œerrorâ€ windows. The instructions advised that I should feel free to try again (Thanks a bunch), which I did. I held my breath and again pushed the button that now mocked me by calling itself â€œDownload.â€
NOTHING. Nothing, that is, but the same lifeless download window appeared, only to stare at me in hateful defiance and download nothing. Abso-farookinâ€™-lutely NOTHING.
The cloud has now fully formed and is getting ugly.
Seeing as how I had just paid for â€œsupportâ€ (Did I mention that I loathe that word?), I called the Customer Service number and was connected to a nice fellow with a Canadian accent. I explained the problem, and he had me look in my current files under â€œNorton.â€ I did that, and confirmed that the only Norton anti-virus software that is on my machine is the current version (i.e the one Iâ€™ve been using). Call me a smartass, but I believe that all that exercise accomplished was to confirm that the software I just bought and which I could not download was not on my machine. Gadzooks! Imagine that?
I stupidly thought that confirming a non-download would be the stepping-off point for solving my problem. However, the nice fellow said, â€œIâ€™m afraid that thereâ€™s nothing I can do for you other than to change your order to the disc set, which you can install locally.â€ (Iâ€™m sure Iâ€™ve mentioned how much a truly loathe the word â€œsupportâ€). Feeling like I did in calculus class decades ago when I was too lost to even ask a question, I simply sighed and replied, â€œSure.â€
The ferocious dark cloud just emptied its contents on me.
My order was duly changed, and in three to five working days, I will receive a box via UPS containing the necessary disc and instructions.
At that time, the cloud will again form, I will speak again with a nice fellow for â€œsupport,â€ and I will end up with a computer that is a virus magnet.
Maybe tomorrow Iâ€™ll tell you about my call the other day to Comcast about my Television cable service. Right now, Iâ€™ve got to get out of these wet clothes.