Rally around, folks. Help me Microsoft solvent

Being a frequent contributor to the wealth of Bill Gates, I buy all of the gadgets that come out of Valhalla--eventually. Unfortunately, this primal urge clashes with my wife's need to put food and rent ahead of electronics. As a compromise, I try to limit my splurges to life's bare necessities, with electronics coming in third.

That compromise created a quandary. Marketing staffs at Intel, Microsoft, and Olympus did their best to convince me that I should shop for software, hardware and camera equipment the instant new products came out. The timeline for this obsolescence schedule was based on the Microsoft Bible, which mandates that all computer buffs upgrade their technology every six months unless they want to be kicked out of the nerd-want-to-be crowd.

The upgrading cycle started with Intel boosting chip speed by a Mach 20 factor. Thanks to this logarithmic progression, I had to learn about "gigs" three months after the word "maga" found a place in my mind's organic hard drive.

The electronic industry's competitive environment has stretched my resolve. Once Intel started making breakthroughs they leaked the info to the Microsoft spies and the gullible media. Then, the Bill Gates Empire felt obligated to make sure that the newly attained speeds and capacities did not go to waste. As a consequence, they announced a new Windows update for every new chip that Intel produced.

The only thing that kept me solvent was that my buying frenzies were curtailed by a proliferation of missed delivery dates. As beta testers queued up, the software programmers went into hiatus. They activated again as soon as the beta testers identified and helped resolve the first 9000 bugs. By the time that those bugs got more or less fixed, beta-2 testers got into the act. Once corporate headquarters concluded that fifty percent of the bugs were patched, the first wave of buyers joined the fray. In reality, this was a case of beta-3 testing.

Initial hints of new software products and the ultimate software releases were eons apart. I'm not complaining. Those delays helped me put off ten buying frenzies.

I thought I had my urge for buying under control when my daughter bought a digital camera. Bummer. Keeping up with the kids meant that I had to turn in my Kodak Brownie and pop for a 3.2 giga-pixel Olympus camera. Now, my pictures of flowers, squirrels and grandkids show true -to-life detail. That true -to-life feature, however, forced me to avoid taking self-portraits until I mastered Adobe's picture enhancement. I found picture enhancement much better and cheaper than getting a face lift.

Once I had picture enhancement under control, euphoria followed. Then, I tried to download my JPEGs and GIFs to an old TRS-80. That didn't work. Even my IBM 385ED let me down on that task. Neither one came with a USB port. Bummer again. I had to go back to the electronic discounters to get a 1.3 GHz computer for downloading my doctored up pictures.

My new computer worked fine and the pictures looked better than life. Then, I tried to print my jpeg photos. New problems arose. My 1984, C-Itoh printer couldn't handle the job. Frugality forced me to abandon that faithful old friend. The cost of upgrading my archaic printer exceeded the cost of ten up-to-date Canons.

Now I know what atomic physicists mean when they talk about chain reactions and the domino effect. Thanks to my buying a digital camera, I ran up enough bills to ensure that I'll get coal in my Christmas stocking for the next 23 years. By then, I'll have to repeat that wearisome cycle -- unless Intel, Microsoft, and Olympus quit upgrading their products.

Fat chance.

Computer upgrades are like three dozen mainframes skiing the face at Heavenly Valley. Both tend to get out of control no matter who claims to be scheduling breakthroughs.

THE END
(Previously Published on Suite101)