Electronica possessed

Oh, the times in which we live. Today, in the small, sustainable world that is goodfocus, we encountered an imperfect storm of technological mayhem. Let me explain.

First, as we were busy finishing up a final preview edit of one of our web videos, the computer upon which we were working decided it was tired and needed a nap - an infinite nap. More specifically, and more technically, the system's internal hard drive - the one on which all the software lives - quit functioning in a hard drive-like manner. It started making a distinctly unhappy clicking sound and our editing software began to behave most erratically. Yes, it was a Macintosh and yes, it was Final Cut Pro. But these details are relatively unimportant as it wasn't the software that decided to go on hiatus, but the hard drive. A quick flash of genius suggested a simple reboot might fix the problem. It did not. The computer did not reboot happily, nor at all. It simply clacked out a tango beat and presented a sincere screen suggesting "I'm doing my best here, but something within me simply cannot continue." That "something" was, in fact, the little hard drive that had been replaced not six months before - when I dropped the computer from a height of about four feet onto my living room floor. But not this time - no dropping, no mishandling of any kind presaged this unfortunate turn.

So, there was a mad scramble to another editing system - our backup system, a trusty older Mac tower that has been our pride and joy for nearly five years now. A push of its power button brought it noisiness to life and we were happily heading towards finishing the project - almost ready to upload the final preview cut to our blip account when ... yes, it's internal hard drive failed as well. Same clacky tango beat, same bleating look of "I'm trying to start for you" upon reboot. Good grief.

Well, an external hard drive and a few hours later and the little Mac notebook was once again singing along - this time a nice Beethoven tune - and our preview edit was finished and sitting happily on blip for our client to enjoy. Of course we'll have to replace the internal drive - so the machine is still somewhat unhappy, but at least it was able to complete its work and feel satisfied in a job well done.

And then - we realized we weren't getting our normal preponderance of email. Oh, no - our mail server was down - not something we encounter often. Check with the mail hosting provider - no, their servers are up and running. They could send mail to us and we'd get it, but all other mail was being bounced. What does that mean? Well, we'll never know. They "rebooted" their mail server after much pleading and the problem simply vanished. Mail was back in business. We were once again connected to the world - no longer a silent island in the midst of the interweb.

But what does all this mean? Bad things come in threes? Yes, that's likely true. Our trust Mac tower still dances the tango all alone - we don't have a solution for it, so currently we're: Technology 3, goodfocus 2 (or 1.5). Our Mac notebook is still without use of its internal hard drive - an umbilical cord connects it to an external drive that keeps it alive and functioning for now. Our mail is working again, so for that we should be thankful. But should we?

The reality is that we simply expect all these Things to work. Yes, Things. They and their ilk have become so ubiquitous to our everyday life and our livelihood that we simply expect them to work without fault ad infinitum; and when they do not - well, life stops. Has anyone ever had to reboot a manual typewriter? Reformat a pen's hard drive? Upgrade the software on their legal pad? No, I seriously doubt it. Here at goodfocus we have, and regularly use, typewriters built one or two generations before we were even born. We use them for making notes, writing thank you letters, creating DVD inserts, on and on. We still use pen and paper (always recycled until there's no place left to write) to take notes or draw illustrations or simply doodle - yes, doodle (can a computer succinctly do that?). But our livelihood depends inexorably upon the kindness of technology and when it suddenly goes walkabout - when it simply stops functioning - it creates an utter stop in our ability to do what we love - to make beautiful statements and art and disperse information for clients who wish us to do so.

But should we be surprised? Today was an imperfect storm - three amazingly frustrating technological hurdles to overcome - almost simultaneously. But how many times a day do little flummoxations arise that set us back, that cause us pause in our creative process? Three, four, five? I dare hazard a guess. And why dare? Because to contemplate the impact that hastily developed software and hardware - that we use daily to express ourselves, to make our work, to create our art - has on our moment-to-moment existence is simply too much for one to bear.

So now I will go to the typewriter - the little blue one in the office - and write a small note of thanks to it for always being ready to listen - though not as often as once in its life; to listen and record the thoughts of anyone who might sit down to its brilliant white keys as it dutifully carries out its mission without need for rebooting or reformatting or software upgrades or firmware replacement.