Hug a Luddite

July 1998

On June 24th at midnight, 250,000 rabid computer users stormed their local electronics retailers to grab the first copies of "Windows 98," Microsoft's latest version of their sometimes-buggy computer operating system. TV news crews documented the Running of the Nerds dashing through the aisles questing for a copy of Bill Gates' golden fleece. Or maybe that's "golden fleecing," since a large number of those same first-day buyers were unable to get it to work. Microsoft spokesmen deny any flaws in the software, saying "Oh, yeah, that blue-screen error message? Er, it's supposed to do that, yeah. 'System shutdown' -- that's just our little joke."

I know many computer owners need to have the Next Big Thing, but why would anyone need to have software nine hours before the rest of the planet? I thought more users would follow the same tactic I do: wait six months until all the bugs are worked out through other people's stress, tears, trial and error, then buy the revamped product. Microsoft's bug history always repeats itself; just ask any computer veteran about DOS 2.1, 3.3, 6.2, 6.22, Windows 3.1, and Windows 95b (they're the readers who said "amen" to that last comment).

Now, don't think I have something against just Bill Gates; I'm actually fond of him, and if he ever felt the urge to buy me a small country with his pocket change, I'd appreciate it. Hardware makers are just as guilty as the software guys of the "Upgrade Or Die" tactic. Designers are constantly coming up with faster, more complex chips that make yesterday's high-tech speed-demon seem like a Yugo with four flat tires dragging the anchor from the Titanic.

I'm all for improving technology, but I'd like my equipment to keep more than half its dollar value between the store shelf and the parking lot. By the latest standards the hardworking, year-old computer I'm typing on now is considered an electric doorstop. Other computers won't return its phone calls and have stopped inviting it to their parties.

What other industry gets away with such clunky products and warp-speed obsolescence? What if a television bought last year was now worth 30% it's original price, and the cable company says we'll need a new model to receive any new programs? (OK, considering what's on TV, I'd pick up a book instead, but you get the idea.) If we all drove Microsoft cars, anything from a broken tail-light to a dead transmission would be indicated by the dashboard's sole "General Vehicle Failure" light, and we'd have to buy steering upgrades every time Intel paved the roads.

The Upgrade-go-Round is spinning faster and faster, yet computer owners still get in line with their tickets. That's why I'm advocating "The Great American Tech-Out." Show you're tired of paying top-dollar for equipment with a shorter shelf life than a Pauly Shore movie. Forego that new program if the one you have works fine. Don't turn your machine into landfill just because some commercial with disco-dancing techies tells you your six month-old $2000 laptop is an Edsel. If we learn to control our PC envy, those silicon CEOs will get the hint faster than a new CPU can count Windows error messages.

LEGAL STUFF: All content copyright © 1996-2006 Daniel O'Leary. All rights reserved. No unauthorized duplication, publication, or distribution.

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He has previously written online editorials to NJ-shout.com (RIP), Great Society.org, and Songsource.com, among others. He has also been featured in ShoreGuide and AbsoluteWrite.com.

Dan is a current member of the NetWits humorist's collective.

Since his early twenties, Dan's writings have also been prominently featured on the refrigerator in his parents' home. "Sure, they make no sense," Mrs. O'Leary comments, "but we're proud of him -- no matter what everyone else says."