I'm holding my breath a little, but it's likely my faithful little laptop has given up the ghost (sniff!). After I posted the Landon tidbit, I was busy loading up some audio and video from today's practice. I also decided to download some audio from the web - nothing weird, I just thought it might be fun to add some sound effects to videos. I found a public domain recording of "Night on Bald Mountain" and set it to download. Like it sometimes does when I have multiple tasks going, my computer froze up. No biggie. I turned it off and tried to restart. No go. No go in "Last known good configuration", no go in any safe mode, nada, nada.
For all those who say I'm a role model in any way, let me emphasize that I am in fact at times like this a good example of what not to do. First of all, writers should learn all they can about computers so they're not helpless in the face of expired warranties. Secondly, writers should back up all their data monthly, weekly, even daily. Thirdly, all writers should know exactly where their reboot discs are and how to use them.
I guess I should appreciate how long my little $800 dollar laptop hung in there. I bought it just before I covered the 2005 World Youth Cup in Peru, so it was there when the U.S. U17 team (Young Jozy, Preston, et al) defeated Italy. I actually lost my power cord at the stadium there, and was in a panic until the stadium staff returned it to me a day later. It's been dropped more than once, got mislaid in Chicago, went to Germany, bounced around in a bike rack while I rode through Hamburg, and generally been a faithful little computer that could handle anything I threw at it.
I'm anthropomorphizing a piece of machinery, I know, but I'm sentimental. Anyway, I'm using another computer right now - just wanted to explain the holdup on the Landon interview. I'm not sure how to load the audio on this one - it doesn't have the same program my laptop does, so it might take a while. My laptop had WindowsXP on it. This one has Vista, which I really despise.
Anyway, I'll quit mourning. . . sometime.