A Computer Helper Story
A reflection of a strange time

By: Levi Blackman : It is really strange how the world works. You can’t apply this to every situation, and I know some people live their lives nobly and with good cause, but a lot of the time the only reason people are able to survive is because they have information other people are too busy to learn themselves.

I put an ad in the newspaper to fix people’s computers for a modest fee. I lost a lot of customers because I would tell them how to fix it over the phone if the problem was a simple one, which most of the time it was. I felt a little odd taking what I consider now, in a time when I have to try to live off $40 a week, (and that doesn’t include the man power I have to employ just to keep my roommate away from the $40 of groceries I just bought) quite a bit of money. It seemed like people were paying me to tell them a secret, even though they could head to the library and look up my secret online.

That’s what I did. When people would call me with a problem, I took a few notes, went to the Internet, and downloaded step-by-step instructions on how to fix the problem. I would get a few possible solutions to the problem, go to their house, and walk away with cash in my pocket, all in lest than an hour. After that I had the rest of the day to spend my money, save my money, and come up with new secrets to earn more money in the future.

That being so, I finally figured out how to be self-sufficient. I could support myself on my own and pay all the bills I could get. It was pretty high up on the cool scale, ranking up there with self-actualization and losing your virginity (is that cool anymore?). It was all based on the fact that I knew something other people didn’t, or didn’t want to or have the time to look it up.

That is how I learned the way of the world.

What did I do with my newfound power? I gave up on the computer business finding myself a little dissatisfied with the money I was making but the lack of challenge in the work. I decided that I have always enjoyed writing, and that was what I should dedicate my life to. I felt comfortable writing, and it seemed to be the only thing I could do and look at the end of the day and feel like I accomplished something. I could write all day, pages and pages, some worthless jibber jabber, and others turned our pure jewels.

The problem with writing is that it doesn’t pay very much. In fact, unless you are a baron of the writing industry, it doesn’t pay at all. It is hard to live life trying to do something that doesn’t pay you at least what you need for food a shelter. You have to buy something to write on, unless you learn to write well with sticks in mud. Of course, the problem with sticks and mud it that by the time you find someone to stand there long enough, reading your chicken scratch, it may rain of the mud may slowly form back together, and then your words are lost forever.

So I find myself slowly going back to the computer thing. People need their computers fixed, and well, I guess I am the man for the job. I really want to connect writing with the computer thing somehow. Maybe I could start an online chat where I help people. That is like writing in a way. I enjoy email, and could do some type of tech support.

The people that really need my help call because they can’t get to their email. So I am afraid that wouldn’t work.

So I am going to wake up every morning and I am going to write and write until I am half exhausted, then I am going to fix your computer and have it back to you before the morning. I know this might sound strange, but I would really like you to read this thing I wrote. I don’t really know what it is about or why I wrote it. I don’t know why I want you to read it so bad, but here it is. I saved another copy on your hard drive but you can just delete it if you want. You can also see it on my website.

So here is my card, call me if you have any problems and I will be back out. She needed a new video card, her old one was broken, but now she should run smooth as chocolate.

About the Author

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