It's not often that I have one of those literally jaw-dropping moments, but it happened yesterday when I read that Dell had decided to recall a bunch of laptop computers because the batteries could spontaneously combust. I caught myself staring into empty space, remembering an incident from about a year ago...
It starts with a small indulgence that I allow my son, Ryan. I'm not sure exactly how it started, but I let him play a game called "Rise of Nations" on my computer. I think the game is a good exercise for him--it makes him manage resources, build a civilization, read maps in 2D space and research technology--this type of thinking is certainly beneficial. The fact that he then takes these newly-developed skills, builds an army, and sets out to annihilate other civilizations is at least slightly controversial. The game has several levels of difficulty, so I can usually rig it for Ryan to win.
A couple of times, we have met with some of my friends who like gaming and we will network our computers, order pizzas, and play all night (yes, we are dorks as grown-ups just like we were dorks in college...) Anyway, one time I brought Ryan along and he allied with us against the computer and we helped him along--he even got to be the one to march in at the end and defeat the computer, and everyone seemed to get a big kick out of that.
It has raised some eyebrows when Ryan is in full battle mode--One time I was a little afraid that he would cause some kind of shell-shock flashback when he was showing an air force veteran how he was launching an fighter assault from an aircraft carrier. Other times, I am pretty sure that people disapprove of the "Conquer the World" attitude of the game. But it's just a game (the parent justifies to himself, trying with all his might to muster a clever analogy to chess...)
So, flashing back to about a year and a half ago, Ryan was about an hour into Rise of Nations, and I was filling out some papers on my desk. I smelled the unmistakeable odor of electrical smoke and melting plastic, and looked up to see a thin line of smoke rising up from my laptop.
"Ryan! What's going on?!" I shouted. I had one of those mind-racing episodes where I flashed back to everything that I had ever done to this computer. Anything I had ever spilled on the keyboard, Kaitlyn prying the letters off, dropping a book on the plug, the fact that the onboard NIC never worked, and why in the world did it only have one USB connection...
I jumped up and unplugged it quickly. Then I unplugged all the peripherals--printer, etc. and waited until the smoke settled. I was really glad that I was right there when it happened--sometimes I let Ryan play the computer in another room while I read or do other work. Also cause for alarm is the fact that I tend to just leave the computer on all night--in the room next to Ryan's bedroom.
I couldn't figure out where the smoke was coming from right away--the whole base of the unit had "that smell."
Ryan's explanation: "I think it's because I nuked France."
I had to laugh. The I tried explaining that it didn't work that way, but he was pretty sure that he had pegged the cause. Apparently he had ferociously nuked them repeatedly.
I got on the phone with Dell and got a very smarmy customer service operator. The guy I was talking to was extremely suspicious that I had done something drastic to the computer. Then I got a little defensive that I had been letting a then-six-year-old play with my computer and, in particular, what I was letting him play. I thought I should cover that part up. Apparently, he couldn't accept the story that "the computer was working great. Nothing weird. Not plugging anything in. Just sitting there computing away. Then it caught on fire." No way, he says.
I've started to notice a very common theme of "blame the vicitim" in almost everything I see. No wonder lawyers have so much business, because it's damned annoying to call and ask for help to be met with "Okay, now what did you do to get yourself in this predicament?" mentality. Unfortunately, if you ever go to Wal Mart and see the average Dale Earnhart fan, that is probably a pretty good assumption, but in this case I was fairly sure that this was some type of malfunction of the electrical system. In fact, a pretty serious malfunction.
The smell seemed to come from where the AC adaptor plugged in to the back of the computer--near where the battery is mounted. The heat caused the plastic PCI slot dust plug to melt inside the socket. I used a pair of needlenose pliers to yank it out. The computer could run off AC power but not battery power after that...
It actually took nearly a month to get any kind of response or help from Dell. I was shocked, because up to that point I had received excellent service from them. Their explanation was that my computer was "outdated" (it was about a year old or so!) and that they were going to replace it with an equivalent system, so they had to go down to the dump to find the discarded parts that match my specifications. Apparently, there is a big scam whereby people try to trade in outdated computers to get updated replacements, and there was no way I was going to get away with that!
I finally received a computer to replace "little smokey"--it had cracked stickers that said "REFURBISHED"--stuck everywhere. To make matters worse, this started to feel like some backroom deal where I was being done a begrudged favor--Someone apparently didn't enter this computer's serial number into their system, so when I called several months later to get some support, they had it listed as...well, someone else's computer. It's a good thing I'm not paranoid...oh, wait...
So, I started dreading the idea of taking this thing anywhere for fear of being accused of possessing stolen property. I finally ended up with a new computer and tossed the old one (figuratively).
I started thinking about this yesterday--this "blame the victim" thing worked pretty well in their favor. I was defensive, and was forced to put up a convincing argument to get any service. In other words, I was fooled into not feeling the appropriate response: Outrage, anger, disgust, entitlement (ie. entitled to an immediate replacement). I kind of didn't want to tell them the part about 6-year-old being at the wheel when the ship went down, because I was afraid that that somehow voids the warranty (yeah, I know, that could have been thought out better...)
A laptop by nature is to be carried out into the world, where it is likely to encounter trauma of some kind or another, so they asked questions like "Do you sometimes run this off battery power?" "Umm hmmmm...." Kinda like asking "Do you ever put something flammable or explosive inside your car, like, say gasoline?" "You never drive it on a rigid surface like pavement or anything, do you?"
When I had my first job at the ice cream shop, and old lady that I worked with named Phyllis called me over. She was smoking a cigarette and wearing a silly white ice cream shop hat. Phyllis had beautiful blue eyes and had a voice like sandpaper. She was about 60 at the time but looked about 80. "See that over there?" She pointed to a stoplight hanging over a busy intersection. The lightpost, for some reason, bobbed up and down violently in the wind. "Mark my words, some day that light is going to break off and kill someone! I just wanted to tell someone so you'll know I was right about it!" Well, the light is actually still there and it never fell off and killed anyone, but I know the feeling. Something's wrong and you want to call it out.
It starts with a small indulgence that I allow my son, Ryan. I'm not sure exactly how it started, but I let him play a game called "Rise of Nations" on my computer. I think the game is a good exercise for him--it makes him manage resources, build a civilization, read maps in 2D space and research technology--this type of thinking is certainly beneficial. The fact that he then takes these newly-developed skills, builds an army, and sets out to annihilate other civilizations is at least slightly controversial. The game has several levels of difficulty, so I can usually rig it for Ryan to win.
A couple of times, we have met with some of my friends who like gaming and we will network our computers, order pizzas, and play all night (yes, we are dorks as grown-ups just like we were dorks in college...) Anyway, one time I brought Ryan along and he allied with us against the computer and we helped him along--he even got to be the one to march in at the end and defeat the computer, and everyone seemed to get a big kick out of that.
It has raised some eyebrows when Ryan is in full battle mode--One time I was a little afraid that he would cause some kind of shell-shock flashback when he was showing an air force veteran how he was launching an fighter assault from an aircraft carrier. Other times, I am pretty sure that people disapprove of the "Conquer the World" attitude of the game. But it's just a game (the parent justifies to himself, trying with all his might to muster a clever analogy to chess...)
So, flashing back to about a year and a half ago, Ryan was about an hour into Rise of Nations, and I was filling out some papers on my desk. I smelled the unmistakeable odor of electrical smoke and melting plastic, and looked up to see a thin line of smoke rising up from my laptop.
"Ryan! What's going on?!" I shouted. I had one of those mind-racing episodes where I flashed back to everything that I had ever done to this computer. Anything I had ever spilled on the keyboard, Kaitlyn prying the letters off, dropping a book on the plug, the fact that the onboard NIC never worked, and why in the world did it only have one USB connection...
I jumped up and unplugged it quickly. Then I unplugged all the peripherals--printer, etc. and waited until the smoke settled. I was really glad that I was right there when it happened--sometimes I let Ryan play the computer in another room while I read or do other work. Also cause for alarm is the fact that I tend to just leave the computer on all night--in the room next to Ryan's bedroom.
I couldn't figure out where the smoke was coming from right away--the whole base of the unit had "that smell."
Ryan's explanation: "I think it's because I nuked France."
I had to laugh. The I tried explaining that it didn't work that way, but he was pretty sure that he had pegged the cause. Apparently he had ferociously nuked them repeatedly.
I got on the phone with Dell and got a very smarmy customer service operator. The guy I was talking to was extremely suspicious that I had done something drastic to the computer. Then I got a little defensive that I had been letting a then-six-year-old play with my computer and, in particular, what I was letting him play. I thought I should cover that part up. Apparently, he couldn't accept the story that "the computer was working great. Nothing weird. Not plugging anything in. Just sitting there computing away. Then it caught on fire." No way, he says.
I've started to notice a very common theme of "blame the vicitim" in almost everything I see. No wonder lawyers have so much business, because it's damned annoying to call and ask for help to be met with "Okay, now what did you do to get yourself in this predicament?" mentality. Unfortunately, if you ever go to Wal Mart and see the average Dale Earnhart fan, that is probably a pretty good assumption, but in this case I was fairly sure that this was some type of malfunction of the electrical system. In fact, a pretty serious malfunction.
The smell seemed to come from where the AC adaptor plugged in to the back of the computer--near where the battery is mounted. The heat caused the plastic PCI slot dust plug to melt inside the socket. I used a pair of needlenose pliers to yank it out. The computer could run off AC power but not battery power after that...
It actually took nearly a month to get any kind of response or help from Dell. I was shocked, because up to that point I had received excellent service from them. Their explanation was that my computer was "outdated" (it was about a year old or so!) and that they were going to replace it with an equivalent system, so they had to go down to the dump to find the discarded parts that match my specifications. Apparently, there is a big scam whereby people try to trade in outdated computers to get updated replacements, and there was no way I was going to get away with that!
I finally received a computer to replace "little smokey"--it had cracked stickers that said "REFURBISHED"--stuck everywhere. To make matters worse, this started to feel like some backroom deal where I was being done a begrudged favor--Someone apparently didn't enter this computer's serial number into their system, so when I called several months later to get some support, they had it listed as...well, someone else's computer. It's a good thing I'm not paranoid...oh, wait...
So, I started dreading the idea of taking this thing anywhere for fear of being accused of possessing stolen property. I finally ended up with a new computer and tossed the old one (figuratively).
I started thinking about this yesterday--this "blame the victim" thing worked pretty well in their favor. I was defensive, and was forced to put up a convincing argument to get any service. In other words, I was fooled into not feeling the appropriate response: Outrage, anger, disgust, entitlement (ie. entitled to an immediate replacement). I kind of didn't want to tell them the part about 6-year-old being at the wheel when the ship went down, because I was afraid that that somehow voids the warranty (yeah, I know, that could have been thought out better...)
A laptop by nature is to be carried out into the world, where it is likely to encounter trauma of some kind or another, so they asked questions like "Do you sometimes run this off battery power?" "Umm hmmmm...." Kinda like asking "Do you ever put something flammable or explosive inside your car, like, say gasoline?" "You never drive it on a rigid surface like pavement or anything, do you?"
When I had my first job at the ice cream shop, and old lady that I worked with named Phyllis called me over. She was smoking a cigarette and wearing a silly white ice cream shop hat. Phyllis had beautiful blue eyes and had a voice like sandpaper. She was about 60 at the time but looked about 80. "See that over there?" She pointed to a stoplight hanging over a busy intersection. The lightpost, for some reason, bobbed up and down violently in the wind. "Mark my words, some day that light is going to break off and kill someone! I just wanted to tell someone so you'll know I was right about it!" Well, the light is actually still there and it never fell off and killed anyone, but I know the feeling. Something's wrong and you want to call it out.
Well, I ran across this problem over a year ago and didn't have the guts to be outraged. I let this guy railroad me into thinking it was my fault somehow and that he was doing me a favor by helping me. Kind of wish I had that smart-ass rep's phone number so I could call him and put him in his place...
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