I hate upgrades. They ought to have a different name. Upgrade suggests an improvement, and that is hardly ever the case. Maybe downgrades. Offgrades. Ingrades. Backgrades. Nongrades.
In any case, when I install one, I’m never sure if my computer will work right when I’m done. When I say work right, what I mean is work the same. I get used to the way it works. It’s familiar to me and I know what to expect when I tell it to do something, like print or save or open or delete. That’s the way I like it.
Upgrades far too often result in a call to tech support that entails a half hour on hold while someone in India tries to figure out why the file it took me a half-hour to create disappeared when I saved it. Twice.
So, I have gotten into the habit of just ignoring those requests I so frequently get to upgrade. But I think maybe the software companies have figured that out, and they don’t like the idea that people aren’t doing it. They’ve changed their tactics.
The other day when I tried to open a video on some web site, a message popped up that said, “To enjoy this site you’ll need to update your (insert name of software here). It’s easy, painless and will take just a moment.”
These instructions followed: 1. Download and install the latest version of (software). 2. Unfortunately you’ll then need to close your web browser. 3. Go back to this site after you restart your web browser. 4. That’s it-have fun!
If you didn’t do it, all you got was a blank page. It was like software black mail. No, it wasn’t like software blackmail, it was software blackmail.
It made me wonder what they might come up with next to force me to upgrade. It stands to reason that if they can make a message pop up, there’s no telling what else can they do.
I think I may have gotten a hint when I got my new computer here at work. It’s not really new, just new to me. Anyway, it has this neat little feature, a built-in camera that looks at me any time I’m looking at the computer screen. I’m looking at the computer and it’s looking back, but unlike me, it doesn’t appear to be blinking. I don’t like that very much, actually. It reminds me of an old Woody Allen monologue in which he is complaining about his difficulty dealing with machines. He talks about watching a baseball game on television and the picture suddenly goes wonky in the middle of a crucial play.
Allen jumps up and tries to get the picture back by adjusting the controls, then, in frustration, pounds on top of the console, to no avail, of course.
The next day, still fuming, he leaves his apartment and gets on an elevator to go to the ground floor. After the elevator travels down a coupe of floors, it stops with a lurch, travels up a few feet, then jolts down, then back up, then jerks to a stop. Allen, discomfited by the unmerciful jerking and jolting, begins punching buttons, again to no avail, then asks in frustration, “Why me?”
He hears a voice coming from somewhere in the elevator, that says “Aren’t you the guy who beat up the television yesterday?”
So far, my computer hasn’t begun talking to me, but I know they have the ability to recognize human speech. If they can recognize it, surely they can duplicate it. What I worry about is what they may be saying about me behind my back. -RB