Temporary Diversion

Hijacked! No, not my plane—although, I did recently have a flight. But no worries, we landed safe and sound.

The hijacking to which I refer has nothing to do with airplanes. But it’s something perhaps more critical, my computer!

It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had the displeasure of a major computer problem —a virus or anything of that nature. But then, last week my good fortune came to an end.

It seemed that no matter what I clicked on, whether online or just an icon or file on my computer, a browser opened, taking me to someplace I did not want to go; a site I did not want to visit. It didn’t happen every time but more than enough. Even once is more than enough!

I ran a scan with my anti-virus software and found nothing. It said there were no problems and my computer was safe from attack. Right! I ran a few other scans with different software and still, found nothing.

The failed scans didn’t mean I was beaten though, it just meant I couldn’t take care of the problem the easy way. One day later—yep, a full day is what I lost—my computer was up and running.

I’ll not bore you with a technical description of what it took to get rid of the problem, I’ll just say, I’m still convinced that the anti-virus companies are the ones originating and spreading computer viruses. Then, they offer the antidote—for a “small” fee of course.

In any case, I solved the problem; I hijacked the hijackers! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Game Over? Not Quite

Back before my wife and I were married, our dates usually consisted of going out for pizza—and playing the arcade games commonly found in those establishments. She liked Ms. Pac-Man; my game was Galaga. This was in the eighties when such games were popular and new.

As teenagers with nothing else to do, we spent a lot of time playing them. And a lot of quarters too! Yeah, I know, kind of a waste of money. But it was an easy way to find entertainment. And as entertainment goes, it wasn’t really all that expensive—especially after a few months, when we got better at the games. Once we’d “mastered” them, we could spend an hour or more on just fifty cents: a quarter for her and a quarter for me. Of course, we did still have to buy a pizza, but thirty years ago, that was only about five bucks.

After we got married and life became a little busier, we never really had the time to play that much, other than when we happened to run across a Ms. Pac-Man or Galaga game somewhere. Through the years that happened less frequently as the games of our era were replaced by the “new” and “better” arcade games. As you might imagine we were less than impressed with the new games.

When our kids started getting older and things like Nintendo, Game Boy, and Play Station began showing up in our house, we were happy to see our favorite games of yesteryear had been included on many of them. But playing the games on the new consoles was just not the same. The buttons were all wrong, they were missing a joystick, and the set up was completely different from that to which we were accustomed. This all proved too adverse for us. And frustrating too, since our kids could play the games, but we could not—at least not very well.

So, for the last several years we haven’t really played much. Sure, there are still a few old style games to be found here and there but most of them are worn out. The joysticks don’t work right, the fire buttons are unreliable, and the screens are so fuzzy a guy can’t see what he’s doing. And yes, I know, new stand-up “Original” arcade style games have been available for a while—at Wal-Mart and other stores—but I wasn’t willing to spend $300, or more, to buy one. So, it looked like our Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga days were over.

But then...

After years of listening as we lamented the passing of “our” games, a month or so ago, our son showed up with two small packages: one for his Mother and one for me. We opened the packages to find a couple of mini-arcade games—Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga. They look just like the old stand-up games, complete with a joystick and the original buttons, but they’re small enough to carry around from room to room—with one hand. You can set them on a counter or table and pretend it’s the eighties! And although the screens are much smaller, the resolution and dimension ratio are true to the originals. The main difference is they don’t cost a quarter to play! Good thing, ’cause with the price of pizza these days, I can’t afford another fifty cents for games! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

This past week, I had the privilege of doing a little work outside—repairing a fence and a few other small jobs. It wasn’t that much work actually, and took only about two and a half hours.

The temperature was barely above freezing and although I really despise the cold weather, it didn’t seem that bad outside. In fact, I even took my coat off about a half an hour into the job because I was getting a little warm. Maybe because I was working!

On my way home, I drove past some construction workers. They were all standing around, hands in their pockets, hooded sweatshirts on, and shivering—like it was cold or something.

A minute or two later, I passed some city workers. Same story. Standing there doing nothing, all bundled up and shivering.

Me, I still hadn’t put my coat back on and was driving with my window down.

I considered stopping to let them know that if they actually did some work they might not be so cold. But I figured they didn’t really care what I had to say. So, I kept driving.

But when I stopped at the gas station and the guy pumping gas asked how I could be running around with no coat and a short-sleeved shirt, I couldn’t resist.

“Been working,” I told him.

“Me too,” he said.

Well not hard enough or you wouldn’t be cold! I thought it but didn’t say it. No, not because I’m thoughtful really. I normally say whatever comes to mind. But the reason I didn’t say it is because usually I’m the guy shivering in the cold. So, I know how it feels.

At least that’s part of the reason.

The rest of the story, as Paul Harvey used to say, is because of my wife. Not that she’s a cold-blooded killer. Or cold-hearted. She just likes the temperature cold. Really cold. She’s been known to run the air conditioner in our house in December. And January. And this happens frequently! Rarely, is the temperature in my house at a livable level and I wear a coat inside nearly all winter. (In fact, I’m wearing my coat as I type this). Because apparently, my wife thinks the house should be kept suitable for a polar bear habitat.

So, I know from experience that once a guy gets cold, it’s hard to warm up. Especially if you have a wife like mine. And now that I’ve finished with this post, I’m going to go turn up the heat. ’Cause I’m cold! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

A Passing Fail

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything about my school days. You’d think that I would have exhausted all my stories about school by now, but no. What I have done is exhausted the supply of stories that I’m willing to divulge. But I figured if I thought hard enough, I could dredge up one that wasn’t too damaging.

And I did. Maybe.

I was in the fourth grade. My teacher, an elderly lady who should have retired long before I was in her class didn’t seem to like me much. I’m not sure why but it didn’t really matter because I didn’t like her much either. But then, none of her students did.

Which is why when I came across a copy of an upcoming test, lying there on her desk for all the world to see, I devised a little scheme. No, I didn’t take the test, didn’t even touch it. So, technically, I wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing. At least in my mind. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t use what I’d found.

Let me explain. See, I’ve always had a pretty good memory. I could memorize things with very little effort—and in very little time. So, I took the liberty of memorizing the test, all of it, while the teacher was busy correcting my work that I’d turned in for that day.

Back at my desk, I carefully wrote down each of the questions. Then, flipping through the textbook, I found the answers and filled them in. My original thought was to make copies and hand them out to my classmates. But I knew that would cost money; besides, I also knew that someone, wasn’t sure who, but someone, would rat me out. So instead, I conveniently left the test inside another kid’s desk when no one was looking.

As I’d hoped, the next day, this other student shared his new treasure with a friend. And then another friend. Soon, it seemed the whole class had a copy of that test. Except me. It appeared I was the only honest one.

Yeah, my teacher didn’t buy that either.

As I had figured, someone did tell her what was going on. She went around the room, from desk to desk, collecting all the papers that had been circulated. But of course, when she got to me, I didn’t have one.

She didn’t say a whole lot but I could tell that she knew. And obviously, though I didn’t think of it at the time, it was all in my handwriting, which I’m sure she could easily recognize.

As a result of all this, the test was changed. Somewhat anyway. A lot of the same material was on the alternate test the teacher handed out a couple of days later—just switched around a little. But also as a result of all this, I had no problem completing the test; I’d searched out the answers already, and then written them down. The material still was in my head so the answers came pretty easily.

Eventually, a few weeks later, I think, the teacher did ask me if I had taken the test. I said no, but then told her what I’d done. She wasn’t impressed. In fact, she didn’t believe me. She said there was no way I could memorize an entire test in just a few minutes.

So, I recited the test for her, word for word—along with the answers. It worked, she was convinced; I hadn’t “taken” the test. For a moment, I remember thinking I was off the hook. Then she opened her desk, took out my test from that day, and marked a big red “F” on it. Now, some would say I deserved that but I’m still convinced that she just didn’t like me. Still not sure why either! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.