- Shutter: 1/30 sec
- Camera: NIKON D1H
For those who have never seen one before, this is the logic board of a 15-inch aluminum PowerBook. My PowerBook. And this was more of it than I ever wanted to see. I wasn’t expecting the violent reaction I would have as Nicholas prepared to crack it open and install the new 80GB Toshiba hard drive that arrived yesterday (you can see the process in the rollover image).
I am accustomed to seeing things laying in scattered pieces. I grew up in a family that enjoys disassembling things just for the fun of it — engines, vacuum cleaners, toasters, VCRs — you name it, they take it apart. Nine times out of ten, they manage to fix the problem.
The tenth time usually happens when they try to repair something that belongs to me. Times like these bring new meaning to the words “duck and cover.” For some reason, my possessions tend to be stubbornly recalcitrant, refusing to yield to even the most extreme ministrations. At best there is much muttering and cursing; at worst, the offending object is hurled at the wall and declared a lost cause.
Keeping all this in mind, I am ashamed to say that it was with much trepidation, some unnecessary sarcasm, a few tears, and a furrowed brow that I handed my PowerBook over to Nicholas. In truth, this was virgin terrain for both of us and I was more than a little nervous. My PowerBook is an extension of myself, the repository for all my writing, my photographs, my music — the stuff that makes me who I am. It may very possibly be the most sacred thing that I own.
I am happy to report that the surgery went well and I should be back to using it by tomorrow as soon as I finish re-installing software and tweaking preferences. Of course, there were a few problems. The outer edge of the case is now somewhat scratched, and there are two fairly significant indentations adjacent to the track pad, where Nicholas accidentally used the wrong screws and they punctured the delicate aluminum surface.
Absently, I run my fingertips across these scars as I pause in thought while writing. The PowerBook is running better than ever, and I am a happy girl. The flaws do not affect its performance, and they will no doubt be forgotten in time. Life goes on.
I try to remind myself that nothing can retain its beauty and innocence forever, and experience will leave its imprint whether we want it to or not. I tell myself that even the most scratched record can still play beautiful music; even a broken mirror can still reflect the light. Only time will tell if that is indeed true. Meanwhile I try to remember that these wounds, while not pretty, were inflicted with love. And that makes all the difference in the world.
Music of the day: Precious Pain by Melissa Etheridge