Self Praise

     There's no doubt about it. I'm a computer genius. I know how to push the start
button on the box thingy under my desk. But seriously, I'm a man for all seasons when it
comes to computers. My talents are endless and I can surf without going near the ocean.
     The man at Lewis News suggested I visit his chat room. Naturally I knew it would be a little awkward because he lives in Washington and I'm in Godzone (New Zealand). We're about 7,000 miles apart and it's along way to travel just to sit in a room and chat with people I didn't know. Besides, with all the fuss about terrorism, I doubt that the Yanks would let me off the plane. I'd probably be regarded as a Kiwi Yeti and locked up for being above average height. The last time I was visited Disneyland, I never saw Micky Mouse or Goofy. They were my childhood heros. It was most upsetting and I vowed to give California a miss the next time I was in LA.
     I up/downloaded (whatever) the recommended software, fired it up and stared at the
screen somewhat dumbfounded. There were little boxes of options, tool bars and dozens of other things I didn't know anything about. Suddenly I was asked to type my name and email address. Then I had to think of a nickname. I tried the more obvious words like Kiwi and wine glass but apparently they were allocated to somebody else. It was most un American but under the Patriotic Act, version 731Aa, my opinion didn't matter and there was nothing I could undemocratically do. Eventually I used, Treasure, my 15-year-old fox terrier's name. This was accepted and I waited for something to happen. The machine beeped several times and after a while I realised I had to enter the Lewis News chat room address. I must have done something right because it beeped again and suddenly the machine said that I was talking live in the chat room. So logically......
     'Hello, is there anybody there?' I shouted. America was a long way away. Nothing
happened. Not a sound. I tried yelling, 'greetings from the wine glass.' Still nothing. So I clicked on a few random buttons and 'ping ping' came up on the screen.
     'Ping to you too, mate.' I muttered plaintively. Then I noticed something blinking at
the bottom. It looked like my word processor. So I typed in, 'what do you want?' I must
have pushed something because suddenly, 'what do you want' popped up with my dog's name at the start. Treasure must have noticed because she started to lick my toes. She has a fascination with Yeti toes.
     Then low and behold, 'Who are you, Treasure?' appeared.
     I typed in, 'it's me' and waited for something constructive to happen. After ten
minutes of nothing, I right-clicked on Lewis News and a long list popped up. Ah ha, I
thought. I'm on the right track for the chat room and clicked Voice. But in big blue letters, 'Treasure, you are not a channel controller,' appeared. Heroically I typed, 'I know but I starting to get the hang of things.' Then I clicked something else to see what would happen and got the same message again.
     Then out of the blue, 'Is that you, Lance?' appeared. My God, now I was getting
somewhere. The machine could understand my Kiwi accent.
     'Of course you stupid machine, who else would have a name like Treasure?' I clicked half a dozen buttons, got more pings and the same, 'You are not a channel controller.' To add insult to injury there was another beep and, 'Consider yourself disconnected.'   Obviously the American software didn't like the Incorrigible Kiwi and that was the end of my chat room experience.
     Somewhat disillusioned I hopped the bus to my local club and complained bitterly to
the barmaid. She asked if I had talked into the microphone.
     'Didn't know I needed one. The software is supposed to take care of that sort of
thing.' I'm very knowledgeable about software. It normally comes on round discs like small gramophone records.
     Then she explained that her computer automatically hooked her into a chat room and
she could talk and see her friends on a little screen. She could also send text messages and all she had to do was press enter to make the words pop up on the screen.
     Several wines later I realised that as I didn't have a microphone or a camera and that
was obviously why I was unsuccessful. More wine stimulated my brain cell and it occurred to me that perhaps the chat room was for verbal text only. The next morning I was succeeded in swapping verbs with the Lewis News fellow. Obviously the wine turned me into a highly talented computer genius.