The ecstasy of a new computer, the agony of passwords

Let's just say the past couple of days have been interesting.

That's because younger son has been home. One reason for his visit was to help his computer-limited parents through the installation of a new desktop computer. This was made necessary because the existing computer, like its users, was showing its age in more ways than one. It was often so unreliable that we had to call customer service, only to be sent, of course, to another company providing another computer service.

This is the way it works in computerworld. One company (and one set of customer-support folks) can help you with problems deriving from the computer itself, the machine that sits on the desk. Another company can help you with email. Another with a particular program that might be installed on your desktop computer that you didn't even know you had.

This is where younger son comes in. He understands computers. They make sense to him. He can get them to do wondrous things. Meanwhile, we sit by and wonder, often aloud, "What just happened there?" No need to explain. We haven't a clue.

But, in the end, the new computer is set up with all our familiar programs, including the one I'm using to write this column. With any luck, in a few minutes I will be able to push some buttons and send the column, electronically, to the newspaper, which has scads of computers, and one of them is bound to understand what I'm trying to accomplish and make it happen.

But that's all just speculation on my part. Since I know so little about computers and what makes them work, I have to use the same faith that applies to my understanding of electricity.

See, here's the thing: I know electricity exists, or it seems to if you ever try to change a light fixture without turning off the power at the breaker box. (See how I toss off all those technical terms. Makes me sound like I know a thing or two. Don't be fooled.)

Electricity, however, is a mysterious thing, like God and angels and things that go bump in the night. I believe they exist, I truly do. But I can't show them to you. I can't put electricity in a bottle and keep it in the refrigerator -- although battery-makers will insist that's exactly the product they provide.

Honestly, what do you know about electricity? Well, you know it's not free. And it keeps costing more and more. And you know it comes from generating plants, some powered by natural gas, some by nuclear gizmos, some by water. What a strange combination of power sources.

And you know that electricity can hurt you really badly is you aren't careful, which is why you are reminded over and over to turn off the power before messing with anything electrical. But we don't always pay attention, do we?

Here's what I don't know about electricity: If you make it and it's distributed over miles and miles of transmission lines but it's not used, where the heck does it go? As best I can tell, the whole power grid operates on the principle of making too much electricity, knowing that it won't all be used. So does it evaporate?

I've asked electrical engineers, power company executives and many an electrician making repairs in our home this very question. No one takes the question seriously. They think I'm trying to inject a bit of levity into something I can't see. But I can feel it. And I see things that run on electricity -- including this fancy-dancy new computer -- that seem to use a lot of it.

You can see by now why it is a godsend to have younger son come home for a few days to rejigger computers and other stuff that we have put off kilter because our school of computer usage relies on pushing buttons until something happens. And computers these days have lots and lots of buttons. Some of them work. Some of them are not fun.

I continue to be amazed by computers. I said to younger son, during a lull in providing passwords for all the things the new computer does, how I would like to be able to show an inventor genius of a previous era what today's computers, desktop and hand-held, can do. How long would it take Thomas Edison to absorb all this technology? And how soon would old Tom be applying for patents for even more advancements in the world of computers?

You know what I think? I think even Thomas Edison would need someone -- someone like younger son -- to help him use and understand all this new technology.

I'm no Thomas Edison. I can use a computer. But I'll never understand it.

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.