January 21, 2008
I hate being a source of amusement to my trés cool techno-geek brother…he never lets me live it down.
(He still loves to tell the story of how I tried to "burn him up" in his bassinet when I was five. And he was a newborn baby. I thought he was cold! I moved a little space heater rightnext to his bassinet. And it started to smoke. Oops.)
But I did it again on Saturday morning.
See, if I have any computer problems, I call him. He's brilliant when it comes to anything electronic and I take full advantage of it.
So I turn on my computer. Er, I try to turn it on. My year-old iMax (damn. Why do I always do that?), I mean iMac. Nothing happens. Nothing.
I try and try and try. Nothing. Not even a whir. Panicked, oh panicked! I call him.
He says, "Is it plugged in?"
"Yes of course it's plugged in."
"How about the power strip? Is it turned on?"
"Yes of course–oh. Oops." I turn on the powerstrip that somehow got turned off overnight ('cause it was working before I went to bed, yanno) and the printers and computer whirr to life.
He actually managed not to snicker before I hung up the phone.
Sigh. I love my brother.

The Andrew Morton book about Tom Cruise




















