Walter Miller Homepage

Definnitly NOT printed on recycled paper

MID-Janaury 1998 Update

Page 2 of 5

"THANKS TO THEM SOUND ACOUSTICS, I KIN HEAR BOTH YOU FELLERS LOUD AN' CLEAR FROM WAY IN THE KITCHEN," Granfather mused, craining his filthey head up abbove the rim of the tub to show us his yellow reptillian eyes narowwing with mordant glee.


More Windows 95 problems

So, after i returned the 266Mhz, Granfather was back using the othor crappier laptop.

The thing with Windoes 95 is that somtimes you acidentaly click on somthin you dont know that you are clicking on, and then it does somthing on your computer which is not clear how to undo. The othor problem Win 95 does is that it automaticly changes things when you DONT WANT it to change them.

But the worst problem is when you do exactley what the instructionns tell you to do, and the danm thing dosent do it. Or even worse, THINGS HAPPAN BY THEMSELVES.

This is what happned to Granfather. The first thing was that this box called Office Shortcut Bar kept popping up. He didnt ask for it and there was no way to minomize it. Granfather hollared and screammed for an hour tryin to make it go away.

Then some of the icons on the desktop kept disapearring for no reason. The onley way to make them come back is you have to keep rebooting the PC, and hope that on one of the re-boots your danm icons come back before you destroy your friggin machene. I know this has somthing to do with the Shell files but i am affraid to delete them.

Granfathor was extremmly pissed

Its not like you can call a toll-free numbor like when you are a customor for a regulor product and ask them how to fix it. And you cant go to the store to demand a refund, neither. You cant even buy a compettitors product. And if you ever DO get ahold of someone who knows what there talking about, they always give you the same advice: 'Just reinstall the OS.'

Yeah right.

The OS is whats the danm problem. Its like telling a sick person who just threw up on the floor to just lap it up in order to cure his illness. Sorry for the gross metophore. And to furthor insult and injure, Mr. Gates, whose product this is, is the richest man in the world becuase of it. And finaly, Granfathers frustrattion regarding these facts is what started the process of him becoming unstuck from the hot tub.

A violant fit

The frightenning semi-human, senior-sub-citizen was bucking and thrashing so bad I thuoght he woud kill himself. Did you see that new TV series "Prey" where the lady discovors the new speceis of evolutionery homonoid? Did you see the scene where the angry little skinney ape is shrieking and hooting in his little cage? That was Granfather.

Plus the crappy 486 laptop was destroyed in the mayhem. So much for re-instaling the OS.

Granfather was foamming from the moulth (which usualy hapens on a daily basis when he drinks Metamucil mimosas or margaritas, or stirs the fiber therappy powdor into any carbonated drink), but this time he wasnt. His eyes were rolled back revealling his third reptillian eyelid, the blue and white one. He was convulsing. He was incohherently screamming "RRRH!! WINDOWS 95!!! RRHHH!!" at the top of his lungs with his teeth clentched and his face was darker than the color of last-day-of-sale bannanas. I thoght if I didnt get help we woud lose the bastord. Yes, like all peoplle close to him, I want him to die. But i do not want him to die this way. Let it be insted surrounded in the lovving arms of his fammily as we all hold him down on the stainless steel table at the veterinarien clinic while the freindly DVM gentley sends a Loony Tunes-sized syringe of dark green sodium penthothal into his boney wrists.

Dad had gone into town so no one was here to help.

Somtimes when bad things happan i am unable to anolyze the tasks i need to do and to be calm. i have a problam with panicking. It is an emmotionol problem. I was crying and hyperventillating. Then I ran into one of the sheds cause I knew there was a pile of old typewritors in there. Granfather collects old typewritters, both manuel and electric. One by one i hauled them into the trailor and piled them on Granfather to keep him from lathoring and pummeling himself to injurey. The I got four of them on the handtruck and pulled it up behind me into the trailor up the steps of our ricketty rotted wood porch and when i got it inside i hourled each one atleast 5 feet ovor the couch to pin the feirce beast down. It was like one of those stories you read about how somone gets a burst of supor human strenth to lift up a car to save someones life. I had loaded 11 typewriters in that tub all togethor before the monstor stopped his viscious writhing. I figoured that this woud hold him till I rushed to town to get Dad.

He is not in the bank.

When I parked i took up two spaces which realy isnt a problom where we live becuase not allot of people live here. Also i was more than 12 inchas from the curb and my wheels were not straite which is not the way you are suposed to park: But this was an emourgency.

I ran down toword the bank but Dad had left an huor ago.

Then as i stood right infront of the old cattalog store I see Junior walkin toword me. Junior is a man in our town who somtimes takes care of Granfather and our dogs. Othor than our family, (and somtimes the Sherrif and the sheriffs deputy, but only when theyve had a few drinks), Junoir is the only person who can tollorate the gristilly bastord on a sociel level, and by that i mean ocasionaly playing cards or drinking.

For a Christmas pressent Junior got one of those red checked hunting hats with ear flaps that tie down undor the chin with the leathor tie string into a bow. He has not takken it off since Chrtistmas. Also he wears these thick Buddy Holley eyeglasses with one of the arms missing and five years ago he glued a plastic chopstick in its place which you can clearley see stamped on it the name of the No Emm Ess Jee Chinese restuarant in the next county. What a waste of a humen life Junior's is, for somone who woud fit in so well in the internet industrey.

I see he is limping.

I see that it is becuase he is wearring only one shoe, which is filthley and sqaushed plus has no laces. When I got close up to him I said, 'Junior did you lose a shoe?" and then he looked at me with a giant grin and said NO I JUST FUOND ONE.

He says that he did not see Dad

Junior agreed to come back to the house with me to help me with Granfather. We also saw a locol minister putting grocories in his car. He is a nice man who helped out our family before, (the time Granfather escaped in 1996), and he said he woud come ovor too and help any way he coud.

I go back with Junior & the minister