Monitor Madness: Are You getting the Picture?

My old monitor was not behaving well. The resolution wasn't resolving. The display wasn't displaying, and the the refresh wasn't refreshing.

I had tried polite requests, begging, pleading, hoping,

encouraging and later , (though I'm ashamed to admit it), holding my breath 'till I turned blue, stomping my feet and screaming Shakespearean style insults.

"Thou loathsome electronic sluggard! Thou barefaced,

one-eyed reprobate! Thou funky, pixel-splotched measle of a monitor!, " I shouted, much to the distress of my dog who began to cower and look guilty.

The monitor, for an unknown reason, (perhaps stunned by my eloquent insults) suddenly resumed normal operation. I tentatively emailed people who might know how to avoid monitory non -compliance. There were definitely some monitorial breaches here. As I got my first reply, from someone referencing a helpful website, the monitor went blank again. Hmmm.

During the past year, I had gotten used to the screen's

yellow cast, the shadow on the left side and the occasional electric blue horizontal lines flickering beside various windows.

"How can you stand that?" asked my computer savvy son, pulling up various control panels, resetting preferences and clicking out a series of adjustments. (I had already tried most of those things to no avail.)

Finally, I was mildly shocked to see him whack the side of the monitor with an open hand and even more astounded to see the monitor resume a bright clear image that I vaguely remembered from it's earlier days. "Wow, " I said, "I never would have thought of doing that.!"

Alas, screen clarity did not endure. I tried the sidewhack solution a few times, but mostly resigned myself to the sub-optimal optical condition.

Finally a week or so ago, the screen blanked. The buttons still clicked on and off with familiar sounds. The little light changed colors appropriately, but the display was gone. I tried turning the monitor and computer off and on in various sequences. Monitor on. Monitor off. Computer on. Monitor on again, computer off, computer on. Degauss. Then I turned the computer off and on with monitor in sleep mode. I turned both items on and off simultaneously and repeated the sequence backwards.

Faint fuzzy pastel blotches of color began to appear on the screen slowly melding into stripes. It was an other-worldly rainbow of delicate violet, raddicio purple, unripe avocado green, burnt carrot orange, and pale blueberry. Hmmm, it must still be alive... or else it's trying to make a salad.

Though it was ludicrous, I began to relate to the machine as if it were a conscious being which might be influenced by pity, good will, or even greed. I addressed it in solicitous tones, asking if I might please just see my email. No response. I tried crying, pleading, cajoling, bargaining and offering attractive incentives. No response. I tried tilting it, wiggling it, jiggling it and tapping out threatening Morse Code messages on it's case.

It began to tease me by flashing a screen for two seconds, before reverting to it's expressionless blank look -- a dark mirror reflecting my dejection.

It was time to check connections. I disconnected and reconnected and double checked the connectedness of all wires, cables , couplings, junctures and contingencies which could possibly be dis or re-connected on the monitor, computer, printer, scanner, modem, surge protector, degausser, mouse, hard drive, megapixel base station, memory card meta processor, microwave module transmitter, docking station port adapter, globerator transport rebooter, electronic apple peeler and garlic press.

Maybe I have too many components.

One thing for sure is, computers have way too dang many wires , but once they are all interconnected they form a stunning decorative macrame suitable for display. Unfortunately, to view it, one must get down on hands and knees to peer under the desk. A lot of people are unwilling to do this. It still wasn't working.

I tried hopping on one foot while rubbing my tummy, patting my head, crossing my eyes and whistling the chorus of "Knick -Knack Paddywhack, give the dog a bone". That worked ! But, again, it was just for a few minutes, and may have been an aberration. In my battle with the monitor, I felt like the Merrimac. I was obviously losing it.

With justifiable frustration, I smacked it upside of the screen with a rolled up computer catalog. It resumed semi- normal operation throughout that whole day. I was able, from time to time, to send and receive email. I began -- ever so cautiously, from time to time-- to check out sources for buying a new monitor. (I thought this might encourage it to shape up. ) That worked for almost three days, with occasional lapses, but when I began to ask people via email for monitor recommendations, it slipped back into a passive-aggressive dark screened attack mode, with occasional glimpses of the mystical pastel blotches.

I solemnly determined that if I were ever able to get it into a viewable state again, I would immediately access a seller of monitors and order a new one. Enough with the fooling around.

The following day, after switching the components on and off about 230 times in various random sequences and reciting an ancient Etruscan chant which cannot be printed in respectable media, the funky rainbow disappeared and was replaced by a normal screen at about 10:30 p.m. I contacted the computer component company, and placed my order.

The next morning it was blank again, but it suddenly repented after only one relatively uninspired side slap. It first showed the yellow-tinged display, then coming clean for the first time in months, gave me a screen of normal bright clear color. it probably knew before I did that we had received an email saying that my new monitor was on its way from Kentucky. ( My old monitor apparently hoped there might yet be time to cancel.) It operated beautifully all day. I emailed. I checked websites. I scanned and sent photos. I checked my horoscope which had an almost inscrutable message: "An old friend, whom you perceived to have betrayed you, may again become trustworthy." Hmmmm. No doubt this was an evil monitor trick, I wasn't buying THAT one.

I accessed the shipping company's tracking code. My new monitor had made it's way through Colorado to Oakland. The old CRT was on its way to a comfortable retirement.

Soon it would be time to create a new under-the desk macramé.