I have a theory about computers. I believe that they are built to go belly up within two to three years of the date of purchase. So even if you don't need or want to buy a new system or upgrade your old one, you have no choice. The system forces that upon you. It's planned obsolescence. That's my theory and I'm stickin' to it.
It was very early yesterday morning when Ron began to have trouble with the computer. The crazy thing started some sort of scan on its own. When the scan was complete, the computer rebooted, only to again launch the scan. This happened over and over. At one point, we were able to abort the scan, only to have Windows display a black screen with white script asking how we wanted to restart the computer. We first selected the "recommended" mode. This did nothing but bring the black and white screen back up. We subsequently tried all the start up modes offered, with no luck. The stupid machine was fritzed. It would not respond to anything. If we turned it off, it turned back on to the same screen. On the bottom of the screen, there was an option to press F10 to launch HP (Hewlett Packard) recovery. I made the fateful decision to push that button and the subsequent recovery button. Upon doing this, we got a dialog box warning us about the way our hard drive was partitioned and telling us something in less that clear English about how some data might be lost and all would be moved across said partition. We clicked "OK." Almost instantaneously, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew we had made a big mistake. In less than 10 minutes, the computer took us back to the day we purchased it. All our data was gone! That's really amazing, when you consider the fact that formatting a typical hard drive takes hours. I called Hewlett Packard and, upon relating my story, heard a very nice man with a heavy Indian accent say, "I'm sorry Ms. Todd but there is nothing we can do for you." We then called a local PC guy who came to the house to check out our situation. After roughly two minutes, he exclaimed, "You're toast!" He said he wished we'd called him before pushing the recovery button. We wished that too.
Ironically, we've been talking about purchasing a back up hard drive for several months now. We were planning on going to town this week to buy one. Too late.
Ron and I are big crime show fans. So when he said to me, "You know, they always say on CSI and NCIS that the data is never really gone from a computer," I felt a glimmer of hope. We sought out a company that specializes in Data Forensics, called them, then shipped our hard drive away to California. The guys there seemed confident they could recover as much as 80 percent of our data. They also warned that it would cost us a bundle. The drive should arrive at it's destination tomorrow. We'll find out then.
The data recovery dude also explained that companies don't make hard drives the way they used to. In the early days, they were practically indestructible and would seemingly last forever. Today, they are physically thinner and more fragile and will usually start to fail in 2 to three years. This, in turn, makes the data more susceptible to corruption. He said computer companies made the move to less durable hard drives when they noticed that consumers were upgrading their systems every 2-3 years anyway. Hmmmmmm.... That seems to support my theory, doesn't it?
So yesterday was a bad day. Ron actually took it all much better than I did. He found the fortitude to laugh about it, even though it represents hundreds of hours of hard work, wiped out in the blink of an eye. To me, it's lots and lots of photos and music. One of Ron's clients, a software engineer, said that, if they can recover any data, the photos and music would be the easiest, since they are relatively small, simple files. Hope he's right.
Today was downright crappy outside. The wind shifted and the vog (volcanic smog) settled in so thick and heavy that it felt like a forest fire must be nearby. Yuck! Doc (the dog) hated it. He didn't want to go outside and wouldn't leave Ron's side all day. When he was finally about to burst, he ran out, peed as hard and fast as he could in one place, then rushed right back in. Come to think about it, that's how he acted a few years back in Colorado when forest fires were nearby and the smoke drifted our way.
Meanwhile, O'ahu is experiencing torrential rains and flash flood warnings. I actually think I'd rather have the rain than Pele's bad breath. Someone really should consider airdropping a giant tic tac into that crater. Peeew!
A hui hou! Aloha!
It was very early yesterday morning when Ron began to have trouble with the computer. The crazy thing started some sort of scan on its own. When the scan was complete, the computer rebooted, only to again launch the scan. This happened over and over. At one point, we were able to abort the scan, only to have Windows display a black screen with white script asking how we wanted to restart the computer. We first selected the "recommended" mode. This did nothing but bring the black and white screen back up. We subsequently tried all the start up modes offered, with no luck. The stupid machine was fritzed. It would not respond to anything. If we turned it off, it turned back on to the same screen. On the bottom of the screen, there was an option to press F10 to launch HP (Hewlett Packard) recovery. I made the fateful decision to push that button and the subsequent recovery button. Upon doing this, we got a dialog box warning us about the way our hard drive was partitioned and telling us something in less that clear English about how some data might be lost and all would be moved across said partition. We clicked "OK." Almost instantaneously, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew we had made a big mistake. In less than 10 minutes, the computer took us back to the day we purchased it. All our data was gone! That's really amazing, when you consider the fact that formatting a typical hard drive takes hours. I called Hewlett Packard and, upon relating my story, heard a very nice man with a heavy Indian accent say, "I'm sorry Ms. Todd but there is nothing we can do for you." We then called a local PC guy who came to the house to check out our situation. After roughly two minutes, he exclaimed, "You're toast!" He said he wished we'd called him before pushing the recovery button. We wished that too.
Ironically, we've been talking about purchasing a back up hard drive for several months now. We were planning on going to town this week to buy one. Too late.
Ron and I are big crime show fans. So when he said to me, "You know, they always say on CSI and NCIS that the data is never really gone from a computer," I felt a glimmer of hope. We sought out a company that specializes in Data Forensics, called them, then shipped our hard drive away to California. The guys there seemed confident they could recover as much as 80 percent of our data. They also warned that it would cost us a bundle. The drive should arrive at it's destination tomorrow. We'll find out then.
The data recovery dude also explained that companies don't make hard drives the way they used to. In the early days, they were practically indestructible and would seemingly last forever. Today, they are physically thinner and more fragile and will usually start to fail in 2 to three years. This, in turn, makes the data more susceptible to corruption. He said computer companies made the move to less durable hard drives when they noticed that consumers were upgrading their systems every 2-3 years anyway. Hmmmmmm.... That seems to support my theory, doesn't it?
So yesterday was a bad day. Ron actually took it all much better than I did. He found the fortitude to laugh about it, even though it represents hundreds of hours of hard work, wiped out in the blink of an eye. To me, it's lots and lots of photos and music. One of Ron's clients, a software engineer, said that, if they can recover any data, the photos and music would be the easiest, since they are relatively small, simple files. Hope he's right.
Today was downright crappy outside. The wind shifted and the vog (volcanic smog) settled in so thick and heavy that it felt like a forest fire must be nearby. Yuck! Doc (the dog) hated it. He didn't want to go outside and wouldn't leave Ron's side all day. When he was finally about to burst, he ran out, peed as hard and fast as he could in one place, then rushed right back in. Come to think about it, that's how he acted a few years back in Colorado when forest fires were nearby and the smoke drifted our way.
Meanwhile, O'ahu is experiencing torrential rains and flash flood warnings. I actually think I'd rather have the rain than Pele's bad breath. Someone really should consider airdropping a giant tic tac into that crater. Peeew!
A hui hou! Aloha!
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