Your laptop is broken. How do you, the world and Steve McQueen respond?
I had come to St. Bart’s Church on Park Avenue for the choir and they did not disappoint. Their rendition of Healey Willan’s “Missa Sancti” filled the sanctuary and provided me respite from the cold temperatures of January in Manhattan.
As my ears blissed over with the sounds, I suddenly heard a “thump”. It wasn’t God tapping me on my chest. It was my backpack falling off the pew onto the church’s stone floor.
Since my eyes were closed and my ears were tuned into the Missa Sancti, I keenly heard the thump and the slightly off putting sound of my laptop (inside the bag) hitting the floor. It was a tinny sound. It was a plasticized ting within the thump, within the choral beauty that filled my ears.
I decided to ignore the sound within the sound.
Like any well seasoned traveler, I wasn’t about to ruin my only Sunday in Manhattan by obsessing about the worrisome implications of the Thump. Instead, I enjoyed the Missa to its end and then sailed through the stained glass doors of St. Bart’s into the frosty streets of Manhattan, backpack over my shoulders, laptop tucked inside.
I headed up Park Ave and cut across snowy Central Park to meet up with my friend Beth Caron, a photographer, for a friendly repast. It wasn’t until evening time when I had trudged all over the city and returned to the hotel that I remembered that thump again.
I opened my backpack and withdrew my laptop. I mumbled an emergency prayer to the Mac Genius in the clouds. She didn’t listen. Because when I opened the laptop, I could see that the display screen was strewn with vertical lines and the desktop was barely legible. There were not enough lines to convince me that my laptop was toast but there were enough of them to ring the alarm bells of self pity and victimhood. Why me? Why now?
When my wife Brooke returned to the hotel room after a long day of training with sweetgreen, she immediately read my energy. “What’s wrong?” she asked. I told her the story of the Thump and she said everything was going to be alright and headed for the shower.
While she cleaned up, I recoiled into a position of resentment because she didn’t want to join me in the “Woe is me - the end is near - apocalypse now” scenario in my brain. Didn’t she realize that my laptop and my life were now completely over? Didn’t she want to go down the rabbit hole with me? Instead, she set up a magnificent picnic meal that she’d picked up at Dean & DeLuca on the hotel bed and we watched the Golden Globes. “Everything is going to be alright,” she said.
The next morning I returned to LA for a brief twenty hours before having to fly to Michigan to start a brand new job. In my mind, it was essential that my laptop be functioning when I got to the new job site, otherwise suffer the dread and anxiety of being the unprepared New Guy. I determined that I was going to fix that laptop at any cost.
I arrived that night at LAX just in time to make a mad dash across the city to hit the local Apple Store before they closed. I got there with minutes to spare. I marched up to the nearest Mac Genius and regaled him with the Story of the Thump. He went quiet and told me that the rest of the night’s appointments were dedicated to iPhones only. “Sorry, Man,” he said.
The next morning, I went into phase two of my plan. I headed over to the local fix-it guy with glowing five star reviews on Yelp. When I got to his store there was a posted message that he had a doctor’s appoint and wouldn’t be back until late that day. Today of all days!
I suddenly remembered another MacStore over on Melrose and drove like Steve McQueen (actor not director) to get there. I raced up to the service desk and laid out the Story of the Thump. This service guy was cordial enough but his whole vibe screamed that he didn’t want anything to do with me. He went into a spiel about a three day backup to get a diagnostic and then I’d probably have to wait five more days for them to fix it and that it sounded to him like a $500 job or even $1000 job and I’d be better off getting a new laptop. He smiled and said, “Have a cool day!”
My mind raced with the “Woe is me - I am screwed - I’m the unprepared new guy going to work at CineVee without a laptop.” In my mind, I was already disgraced and fired and living on the street and eating from a can. I suddenly felt like Steve McQueen (actor not director) in“Papillon”.
Then it hit me. I still had another try in me. I raced over to a place called UBREAKIFIX on 3rd Street in Los Angeles. I soon found myself standing on the sidewalk as their doors opened. I was now weary from the travel and spun from all the self-talking drama. My shoulders slumped when I read the sign inside the store that stated that their specialty was iPhones, not laptops.
I trudged to the counter anyway. Johnny was cool and laid back and acted as if he was actually interested in the Story of the Thump. I expressed to him my dismay that his store only fixed phones.
“Let’s take a look,” Johnny said. He studied the lines on the display screen. Johnny was the first guy to take a look at my laptop before quoting prices and delays and backups.
“Can I open it up?” Johnny asked. “Hell, Yes,” I said. Desperate. Johnny disappeared with the laptop into the back room.
I collapsed into a chair and meditated on my fate and soon something remarkable happened. I realized that I had to let go of this laptop drama. I took a deep breath and accepted the fact that I could not change the Story of the Thump. And then a strange feeling of bliss crawled into my heart space. It was going to be alright. I could show up at the new job without a laptop. I could simply adapt and overcome and improvise and ask for help.
Johnny emerged from the backroom and showed me the insides of my laptop. He pointed out that there was no visual damage. He also informed me that similar to a car in a crash there could be damage that we couldn’t see with the naked eye. He had noticed that a wire was loose and he adjusted it with his pinky finger. He then retreated to the backroom and came back three minutes later. “Hey, Hans,” he said, “Take a look.”
He showed me the screen and it had no lines. It was working again. Fist bump. Hand slap. High five. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
Johnny explained to me that sometimes a “thump” will send a laptop into shock and that all it really needs is a reboot after a little tinkering.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. My worrying collapsed all around me. The display was clean once more.I turned to Johnny. “How much do I owe you?”
Johnny smiled and said, “Nothing, Brother. All I did was open it up.”
It’s been fourteen days now and the display is still working just fine. I flew to Michigan that night with a working laptop.