(Approx. 1,172 words)

Dufferdom

Kingdom of the Ordinary User

Written by David D. Uffer, a member of the Chicago Computer Society, IL

www.css.org

May be contacted through wsickels(at)sbcglobal.net

Ever think about this, one of the consequences of Internet spam: missed genuine messages? Calling them “false phonies” may make them sound less serious but it is a real loss. Having a publicly known e-mail address would only add to the risk of garbage, obnoxious, or offensive messages, which is why I do not announce my address here–and no longer elsewhere–and why I wonder at the bravery of those who do. As it stands, I get a bunch of suspicious messages, a consequence of having previously been too open and trusting. I assume a lot of readers have the same experience.

Happily, most of the current garbage is obviously that. Crude spelling, offensive wording, or silly or too-cute sender names are a giveaway, a tip to delete and not open the e-mail, which would probably anchor some form of evil in my PC. That evil could just be a spam target sign that in effect announces DUMB GUY HERE or GULLIBLE TARGET or KICK ME or BUYS ANYTHING or BUYS SOFTWARE ON or BUYS GARDEN TOOLS or it could open a little secret program in your PC that transmits further activities to an eager collector of such information. There goes your assumed anonymity. Scary, huh?

So, ways to avoid such nasties include: 1) leading a Simon-pure life, 2) keeping your address as secret as possible, 3) having some anti-spam, anti-spy program that does some measure of safeguarding, and 4) opening only those from e-mailers you can trust. Since (1) & (2) are difficult to do, (3) is a lot of trouble, costs time and money, may be harmful, and may not work, (4) is the simplest “solution” for most of us. That brings us back to the starting question. What do we miss and what do we care are valid questions. Steve Bass, of PC World, says he also automatically filters out e-mail containing the word, “Free”. There’s a realist for you.

There was a time when a popular target for complaint was the Postal Service. Then that became too common and they got better. Then we’d also had the Phone Company as a favorite repository of reluctance. Then they got so eager to help that they got beside themselves, splitting up into competing companies all claiming to be offering the best deals. In that situation, all but one must be lying, which one being unclear. But you do observe that the most extended claims gather the big market share and the revenue, which brings us to Microsoft.

A colleague of mine has a sigh and a quip, “Every morning when I get up I send Microsoft $10 and beg them not to give me any trouble this day.” It may well be that this favored MS–not the medical condition but the requisite host– will be an occasional target for this column. It’s hard to choose among the many cases of places bearing target signs. No, I could not do what they do, nor so well, nor so profitably, nor so annoyingly. My annoyances include new versions of MS Word that do not easily recognize output from an older sibling. Or older versions that also need a format change in order to be useful now. That’s one, a big one. But I found a new annoyance more suited to my scale, a small one.

I needed a new mouse, a chance to get steadier, smoother cursor movement. Guess what. Microsoft had just the ticket. A new, red-boxed optical mouse. Buy it, try it. No more interruptions to clean off the ball inside. But guess what. The new scroll wheel klacked along like a marble over gravel. Take it back. Surprise; Microsoft also offers the red-boxed MS Comfort Optical Mouse 3000, with magnifier and Tilt Wheel, no less. For more money of course but you do get wonderfully smooth scrolling, a click-on & -off magnified region, and some limited side-to-side shifting for off-screen text. A new slim thumb button triggers the variable area magnifier on & off and the scrolling wheel can be tilted to get the off-screen text. Nice, but down the road there’s a surprise and a memory aid.

While using the enlarged on-screen area, you can fiddle with it some to adjust height and width of the magnified area. You find that using it also slows down any screen operation. Further, having the region move one way while the cursor moves another could make you something akin to airsick. You can probably make your peace with that and find it useful. Then, after some 15 or 20 periods of using and adapting to it, I found a new function for the magic thumb trigger. It makes the current screen vanish. Permanently. Then, if you push it again, that next screen also disappears. Permanently. I find it a new way to get back to the desktop screen in a hurry, if I don’t mind losing access to the intervening screens.

But what of the magic magnifier? Where is it hiding? Back on the desktop. That must be its new home. Maybe it goes there to rest. That is now where I must go to find it and call it forth. Then it becomes a creature pet, almost domesticated, and accompanies me for a while, ready to enlarge anything on the screen at my beck and call. Until it tires of the adventure and goes home, at some stage not predictable by me. Sort of a game it is.

But you may ask, where is the memory aid? A simple learning process it is. I learn by doing. Self-education. I learn and must remember that if I want the creature pet critter to accompany me I must summon it early or not at all. Failure to do so is penalized by progressive loss of screens and data. The learning is thus hastened and reinforced. So I get these gifts from Microsoft: surprises, memory aid reminders, and gently enforced self-education. Clever, resourceful, and wholesome, these MS folks in Redmond, WA. Or maybe I’m just one of their famous charities. But I did pay for the entry. And now Vista has arrived, with open doors and ticket booths beckoning.

Originally from Denver, Dave Uffer wended way to Chicago and the Big Iron by a not quite corporate route. He is a friend and long-time admirer of the Chicago Computer Society, a member of some standing. He knows that ordinary users are now the main body of the field and deserve some say. So he began Dufferdom as their realm.

This article may be published only by APCUG member user groups. All other uses are prohibited. When used, APCUG must be acknowledged as the source and the author credited. The Editorial Committee of the Association of Personal Computer User Groups (APCUG), an international organization of which this group is a member, brings this article to you.