Super Computer

 

All summer, we just assumed no one was going back to school in person. I mean, just take a look at (gestures to everything). I’m sure there was an official letter from the district, but I pay as much attention to official district letters as I do official emails from my company begging me to fill in my timesheets.

 

However, I was also not paying attention to behind the scenes conversations between Luca, Elijah and Diana about the technology needed for e-learning. Somehow, the boys convinced her that the seventeen computers, ipads, phones and abacuses simply could not do. We needed a new computer.

 

It just so happened that the only computer with enough power to handle essays and Zoom calls was a bespoke gaming PC with a light up keyboard, a monitor with higher resolution than the human eye can detect and one of those mouse things with twelve buttons. For e-learning.

 

I decided not to fight it because I always, always lose when it comes to spending money. Plus maybe it would allow me to play more then 45 seconds of Xbox per week.

 

Our first stop was my pal John, who was editor in chief of both a popular gaming website and the A.V. Club and is a technological genius. Which means he’s ten years younger than me.

 

John was excited to help us build the computer. We gave him a budget and our wants and needs and he said he’d get back to us in a few days.

 

Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet? Is John done yet?

 

At one point, I bellowed, “Here is John’s number. YOU CALL HIM!”

 

Because John is a person with a real job and family, he needed a normal amount of time to build the computer. Unacceptable!

 

In order to keep one of the few friends I have left, I let John off the hook and decided to risk COVID and take the boys to the Computer Mega Store. I made them wear masks and surgical gloves and write down exactly what they wanted so I could blame them for every salesperson’s eye roll.

 

We walked into the Computer Mega Store and I immediately locked eyes with a young man with a giant ginger beard and ponytail.

 

“You!” I shouted. “You will be my savior!”

 

My savior looked at Eli and Luca and simply said, “What’s your budget?”

 

Luca approached my savior with his notes and specs and my savior waved him off. “I know what you want.”

 

My savior built a glorious gaming PC with a keyboard that not only lights up, but changes color every time you press a key. The processing power could launch a tactical nuke from our basement. The mouse would make a Porsche engineer blush. All for the low low price of $800 over budget.

 

Luca was disgusted. “Dad. We are NOT going over budget. I refuse.” Oh, my sweet sweet, miser son. I explained to him that I was willing to pay a million dollars to get out of the store.

 

Much to my disappointment, they needed a few days to build the PC. 

 

Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet? Is the PC done yet?

 

A few days later we plugged it in, pressed “power”…and nothing happened. Eventually we got it to work, but not before I screamed, “I HATE TECHNOLOGY!” 

Not you, Xbox. I could never be mad at you.

 

The Most Magical Place on Earth

 

We are extraordinarily lucky during this insanity. First and foremost, we are all miraculously healthy. My job remains intact. Diana’s business is flourishing (quarantine makes for thirsty people) and creature who lives in our crawlspace still slumbers.

 

Plus, we have a cabin. I feel kinda icky about it, given the fact that so many people don’t have even a first home. We try to clear our conscience by offering up the place to anyone who asks. Unless they want it on a weekend. That’s Hamann Time, fools.

 

The place does wonders for my outrageous blood pressure and stress related hair loss. Sometimes I even dance right up to the line of actual relaxation. Diana is totally in her element. She was made for weekends in the forest. The moment she arrives, Diana melts into a deck chair for 72 hours, occasionally rising to mutter the words, “Isn’t this great?”

 

The boys?  Who knows? They’ve moved on to better things. Namely, The Most Magical Place On Earth.

 

No, not Disney. We’re not monsters.

 

Our wonderful neighbors’ parents have a place in Indiana that makes our cabin look like an outhouse. No, not those wonderful neighbors. The other ones. A few weeks ago, they invited Luca to spend a couple days at their place. Those couple days turned into a week, which turned into another week. Elijah, sensing an upgrade, managed to get himself invited as well.

 

Despite being on their phones 24 hours a day, Diana would go several days without hearing from them. The only communication we’d receive was in the form of impossibly beautiful photos. The boys frolicking in Lake Michigan. The boys on a boat. The boys lighting howitzer sized fireworks. The boys signing adoption papers to officially join the wonderful neighbor’s family.

 

After another round of beauty pics, I would grumble, “We have cool stuff out here. We have…ticks. And that part of the roof that always leaks.”

 

One Sunday I drove to Indiana in the guise of picking the boys up. But I really just wanted to see this Shangri La for myself. I mean, how great could it be? Really?

 

Imagine the coolest place you can. Now, boost it up by 47%. Add some arches. And vines. Now add 25% more amazing architecture. No, not that much. They aren’t drug lords. There. That’s it. It’s that awesome. 

 

I prayed my tires would suddenly flatten and I would have to live there. But alas, Toyota makes a maddeningly reliable hybrid. So I was forced to drag the boys away and shove them into the car like cats into a bath.

 

We drove home and the boys had to go back to suffering through life with unlimited video games and pizza.