I’m writing this a day earlier than I normally would because my computer needs a period of rehabilitation. Professional help is so expensive, I hesitate, but the poor thing isn’t getting better and there’s been no miracle though I’ve prayed for it, God knows, I’ve prayed. So this will be a short early post that I’ll put up and schedule for tomorrow while my machine is in rehab.
It remains problematic.
There’s a friend who won’t cost a dime and who thinks it just needs a makeover. A take it down and start over sort of thing. She promises to help. As I say, she’s cheaper and the professional costs $80 an hour.
Multiply the professional by a few hours and what do I get? Very possibly an answer to the question: would a new computer have been cheaper?
On the other hand, my friend is an amateur. A rank amateur. Multiply that by a few hours and what might I get? A nervous rash, hysteria, and again, the same unsettling question: should I have just bought a new computer? Do I still have a choice?
I really can’t afford and don’t want a new computer.
Anyway, as I explained, this will be an out-of-order, short short post, posing one of the other conundrums I’ve thought about over the years.
Rainer Marie Rilke, who was one of my favorite writers as a college student, and who never made it to old age, wrote a sketch in his youth of a man who became aware that the earth was turning under his feet. (A warning: I’ve never run across that bit of writing again, and so the way I’m addressing the problem may be at odds with his.)
There was vertigo, of course. And a choice to be made. Should he, under the circumstances, try to keep up with it? Should he try to ignore it? Should he just sit very still and hope it stops? Or should he try to outpace it… out-turn it so to speak? Get ahead of it?
One more question: supposing someone has managed to live with this affliction into old age, is it likely to get worse or better? Might their response to it change?