The Velveteen Laptop

Strange how computers change our lives, or how much more we're affected by their absence. My computer has been in the shop for a while being repaired. It's taken a bit longer than usual to get it fixed, hence the radio silence. I stopped into the store today and noted that it's called Magnum Mac, way tougher than iStore, or whatever other wimpy names they go by. The service guy told me that they were running diagnostics, and couldn't tell me when the repair would be completed. The original issue, that when opening the laptop the backlight would periodically fail to come on, was something that fell into the cliche of repair issues - namely that they couldn't recreate the problem. The repair file noted that they are trying to 'fault' the computer, meaning that the technicians have not yet seen my backlight failure issues, rather than they are blaming my computer for all their problems. I'm not sure how much I believe in the 'aliveness' of things, or if karma extends to inanimate objects, but I certainly did as a kid. I would wonder if my toys were comfortable in the positions I left them in, or if He-man wanted to spend the afternoon in his bulky form or relax in his Adam of Eternia casual attire. I can remember putting Marble Madness in the NES, even though I hated it because the play control was sloppier than eating an open-faced reuben sandwich on a hot summer day, just so it would have something to talk about with the other catridges when I went to school. So now I can see how my anxiety has traveled with me to adulthood and Auckland, where I fret for my poor macbook, languishing for weeks in a flashy, mac-world chrome and white workshop somewhere, wondering why everyone keeps trying to find fault with it. Now I think I want it back not so much for the reassurance of my laptop's self esteem, but to distract myself from wondering about it. I just hope my bike doesn't get jealous.