>If you’d asked me a week ago to describe my hero, the guy I want to sweep me off my feet, solve all my problems and live happily ever after, I’d have chosen a totally unattainable dreamboat. Besides the obligatory tall, dark and handsome I’d have thrown in funny, smart and gainfully employed, with good measures of creative and talented. Dashing. Devil-may-care. Brooding. Handy with a laser pistol, light saber and/or bass guitar. Must like dogs and horses. Sort of a cross between Hugh Jackman (sigh) and Han Solo. That was then.

Today my ideal guy is… The Geek. Let me explain.

One morning last week I got up, made the coffee (although I don’t know why I bother to drink the stuff; I should just set up an IV) and sat down at my PC, resolved to get some work done. I powered up. Whirring and buzzing. Nothing else. Crap! The OS will not boot. I shut it down and tried again multiple times. Still nothing. I am getting knots in my stomach. A horrible realization is sinking in. If I can’t get this fracking machine to work, I am doomed.

This system has not given me a moment of concern from the day I bought it three years ago. Therefore all the documentation that came with was buried… uh, I mean safely stored… in the basement. I tossed the joint searching for some kind of owners manual. I found reams of paperwork from two previous computers, pounds and pounds of manuals and guides. But anything useful for this PC was stored on the drive or available online, none of which I could access because my computer would not start. How Catch-22 is that?

A couple of hours later, gagging from the dust, pulling cobwebs out of my hair, I emerged from the lower depths of the house with only a disc containing diagnostic tools. So I tried running a diagnostic, not that knowing the result would have helped any. I don’t speak techno-babble.

Mercifully I still had my previous PC. It took some aggravation, loading drivers and programs, in order to coax that old thing to life. Eventually I was able to check my e-mail, but barely anything else. By now it was dark and I gave up.

For days my PC was nothing more than a very expensive paperweight and a constant reminder of how stupid I was for not backing up my files more often. I moped around, jonesing for the Internet and this blog and all my buds. I tried to cheer myself up with the thought that I had the perfect excuse for not writing and sizing any patterns. But finally I did it, the one last thing I could do, the one act that truly showed the measure of my desperation. I had to call in a Geek. You see, in my universe, geeks are a different life form from normal people; not as exalted as doctors, nor as slimy as lawyers, nor as greasy as auto mechanics. But like all of the above, geeks know stuff and can do stuff that I cannot. Nobody enjoys being made to feel like an idiot, know what I’m saying?

So I unplugged the tower and handed it over to DH who took it to the IT guys at work. In the meantime I considered shopping for a new computer with all the latest and sexiest toys. I went as far as to configure my dream system and add it to my cart. At least I’d be ready to hit the order button if it came to that.

By the next morning I had the bad news. The hard drive was fried. Kaput. Dead. A late drive. But Mr. Geek said it was worth saving. He had a replacement in stock and gave me a ballpark price for the repair, a tiny fraction of the cost of a new system. So, what the heck. If I wasn’t thrilled with the outcome I could always hit that order button later on. I told him to do it. Two hours later I had the tower home, plugged in and was back to business as usual (minus any files I had neglected to back up, which were considerable). And I am happy to admit that I have undergone a serious attitude adjustment where geeks are concerned.

His name is Alex and he is a god. A god who wears striped polo shirts and baggy cargoes and may or may not wear glasses. A god who, statistically speaking, is likely to live on pizza and Wii. A god who is most assuredly around the age of my youngest son (the actuary) and rather reminds me of him in a goofy way. A god who is neither tall, dark nor particularly handsome, although I’ll grant that he was cute in a sweaty sort of way as he was carrying the tower to my car for me. (Hey, it was unseasonably warm that day and geeks aren’t expected to do heavy lifting.)

I adore my geek. We need to declare this official “National Be Kind to Your Geek” week. Make that “Planetary Be Kind to Your Geek” week. Or something. Thanks, Alex! You ROCK!