Betrayed By Hunk of Metal

I've been reflecting quite a bit about last week's crash of my computer's hard drive. For the first two days, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my body. Well, I was clearly out of my comfort zone, anyway. As a writer by profession, I felt personally betrayed by my dead hard drive -- the keeper and organizer of digital information that helped me perform so many activities of daily living.

On the third day, I opened up my computer and saw the hunk of metal that had turned my world upside down. I had to laugh. Why had I become so dependent on something only a few inches wide by a few inches tall and probably only an inch thick? Because I allowed it to. I thought the thing was smarter than it actually was. A smart person seeks help when in trouble. I cannot honestly say that my hard drive reached out for assistance. It simply didn't work anymore, and didn't say it was sorry. My disorientation and frustration was never acknowledged by the 500-gigabyte Samsung HD501LJ. Not once!

Hey, God, we need help down here. Why bother creating highly advanced organisms if you allow them to be so dependent on a factory-installed hunk of metal? A cuddly bear as a toddler, I can understand, but grownups should know better. Next time, don't allow us to stray so far from the Garden of Eden, where everything was colorful and peaceful. Put a fence around it. Invisible, of course, so we don't know we're imprisoned. That would make a mere hard drive cash seem like heaven.