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For want of a screw... Falling Apart? Already?By Rick Horowitz He's trying -- he's trying very hard -- not to make a big deal out of this. Every now and again, he thinks he's succeeding. Other times, he's not so sure. He knows he's supposed to keep these things in perspective. This isn't close to a major crisis; he knows that. More like a glitch. Not even a glitch, really. More like a potential glitch. So why the long face? What could possibly have happened to turn him totally (if temporarily) twitchy? He found a screw on his desk; that's what happened. A screw attached to absolutely nothing. Until that very moment, it was a perfectly ordinary morning, and then suddenly there was a screw on his desk, a screw he'd never seen before. It was a tiny screw, not a quarter-inch long from top to bottom. It was a good-looking screw, too, as screws go -- not that he was an expert on the subject -- sleek and black and shiny. Exactly, in fact, like his new computer. Can you see the problem? He saw the problem instantly. Until that very moment -- and he'd swear to this if he had to -- all the parts on his new computer had been attached to his new computer. There were no parts, not even tiny parts, rolling free. He'd been satisfied with that arrangement: Here is your computer, with everything attached. This new arrangement, on the other hand, worried him. He considered the possibilities. Possibility No. 1: His new computer was producing its own spare parts. In addition to all the other wondrous things it was able to do, his new computer was spitting out extra pieces, just to be on the safe side. This seemed unlikely. Possibility No. 2: His new computer was falling apart. Already. This seemed appalling. Screws are designed to keep other things secure, he knew. (Not that he was an expert on the subject.) When a screw goes AWOL, he knew, whatever thing the screw is supposed to secure is secure no more. Then it's just a matter of time before the thing itself starts sliding around. He didn't want things sliding around. He began the inspection. If there was a free-floating screw, he figured, there had to be an empty screw hole somewhere. If he could find it, he could fill it and make the soon-to-be-sliding thing -- whatever it was -- secure again. If he could find it. He inspected the top of his computer first, where the keyboard and the touchpad live. There were no empty screw holes, or even filled screw holes. There were no screw holes at all. He checked the sides of his computer, where the printer and the phone cord plug in. No screw holes there either. He checked the bottom of his computer, where the battery and the memory live. There were ten screw holes on the bottom of his computer -- and a screw sitting nice and tight in every last one of them. Impossible! There was no way he -- But wait. Back beneath the grillwork down below, back where the diskette drive and the CD-ROM drive make their homes, he thought he saw...something. Something where it shouldn't be. Gently, he squeezed the latch, slid the drive out of its bay. And there it was: A screw, askew. A second screw. It landed on his desk with a tiny, tinny sound, but it might as well have been an anvil for the terror it struck in his heart. It was a perfect match for the other screw, he realized, and if this one came from deep inside the machine, way beyond the reach of amateur inspectors with their amateur screwdrivers, the first one probably did, too, yes? How many more were on the way? And what else would soon be rattling around in there, and then tumbling free? He's trying to keep calm. But if there's one thing he dreads almost as much as computer breakdowns, it's calling computer service departments. "Hi," he'll have to tell them. "I've got some screws loose." This will not be pleasant. Posted
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