It was a typical day - go to class, trip over nothing in O'Neill plaza, play some Jenga - when checking my Gmail, I discovered another notice from McAfee: "Final Warning: Your PC Is At Risk. RENEW NOW."
Despite the damning evidence in the subject title, I'm usually responsible with managing my computer updates. You see, freshman year I had my own laptop from high school, purchased directly from Dell outside of the Boston College offer and thus outside of built-in BC virus protection.
Needless to say, my poor computer didn't stand a chance against the open network on campus and it caught a pop-up virus that left my desktop looking like the ad section of Hustler magazine. The problem eventually cleared itself up by culminating in the infamous Blue Screen of Death that reads, "Beginning dump of physical memory."
I didn't feel too bad though. I was a maddeningly shy person at the time, and at least that forced me to leave my room.
For a while, I was shunted from techie to techie until finally, ejected from the then-named SLSC (Student Learning and Support Center), I encountered the Service Building located behind Cushing due to "hardware issues." And that's how I bonded with Jorgen, the Swedish tech guy at the help desk who not only fixed my computer but also gave me free bagels and Adobe Acrobat lanyards, and became my first friend at BC. We never did stay in touch.
Anyway, as Jorgen explained to me, to fully protect your computer and identity, you have to download McAfee anti-virus software and Virex and "understoond how important eet is to oopdate."
Now, I thought virus definitions lasted forever like giant tortoises or Dick Clark. Evidently, they must be renewed any time McAfee wants some money or your computer crashes, whichever comes first. And yet the Internet seemed like such a good idea on paper.
So I obeyed all the warnings and diligently renewed whatever version was being peddled. After that close brush with technological death, I tiptoed around my laptop not only afraid of viruses but also of Spyware, phishing, and worms.
The software companies didn't help. McAfee promotes itself the same way the government does: using scare tactics like "malicious threat," "security risk," or "it's this or death." And you have to guard your computer because, for most students, it's that unique shared territory for both academics and social life. I myself wouldn't know when to use the bathroom if it weren't for Office Calendar.
Accordingly, the least I can do for my computer is to throw it an update every now and then. I usually can tell when it needs one (besides the threatening "final notice" e-mails) when it's making that whirring noise like it's about to take off into orbit.
So when I get those pesky notifications, I'll click the update button because it's either that or click the update button. Roughly 30 seconds after I've accepted the terms and conditions of that agreement, McAfee, Norton, or Apple will detect a newer version. It's fun. Once I've agreed to this update, I'm advised to shut down other programs I'm running, which I do, so that Microsoft Word can learn not only to process words but also to order stamps, translate Swahili, and monitor my bowel movements.
Sometimes, after a system check, my computer will assess any security threats it finds that it feels threaten its health, my well-being, and democracy. Generally, they're Web site cookies. But I don't sweat it. Because once my helpful McAfee tool quarantines the dangers, I am free to continue visiting Web sites in order to refill my cookie supply.
So right now, everything is mostly class-trip-Jenga, with limited technological crises. Although sometimes the shock of my freshman-year meltdown wears away and my diligence slacks a little causing me to skip a few updates in a standard dimwit move.
But it should be OK, because I just updated my Dimwit Recovery Deluxe.
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