As there was still no sign of the monitor I decided to undertake a long download. This would obviously stop me installing the new monitor (assuming it arrived) and as this would be highly frustrating, I was sure it would act as an induced delivery. Nope. Grrr.
So I turned to my last weapon, the washing-up. Not much of a weapon, I know, because washing-up is so easy to interrupt, but it was better than nothing and would keep my mind occupied for a while.
It worked! Barely had I got my rubber gloves wet when the doorbell rang. We have this swish entry phone now so I bellowed “Hello! Hello!” into the microphone. You have to shout because people don’t seem to realize what an entry phone is. They don’t expect a voice to come out of the wall.
“Delivery,” said a voice, eventually. I pressed the button that releases the front door and listened for the click. There was none. [Sigh] This delivery man obviously doesn’t know about door buzzers. Fortunately, we are on the ground floor so I went to the front door and took delivery of the monitor sign-and-print-ere-pleez.
Then I went and finished the washing-up. Highly disciplined we tigers, you see. Not easily phazed by the delivery of monitors and other exciting toys.
Then to the unpacking. First, read the check list to make sure everything is there. It is. Now look for the Quick start booklet, pamphlet or sheet. None. Oh yes, cunningly hidden in the plastic envelope with the installation disc. Installation disc? Oh lumme, this is going to be more complicated than I thought.
Now, deep breaths, deep breaths. Let’s find where the present monitor plugs in. Aha! Gotcha. Insert VGA cable. Plug in power cable. Stick audio cable into whatever hole seems to take it. Drape cables becomingly over the furniture. Now where in fernandel do you attach the cable to the monitor? There are no holes! Oh yes, cunningly hidden under the bottom of the frame so you can’t see them.
The sound cable doesn’t fit. The support bracket is in the way. What we do do now? Bing! Light-bulb moment: take a look at the jack you stuck into a hole in the computer. Is it perchance smaller? Yes! It still doesn’t go in. Grunt, squeeze, push, jiggle, snap. Right, it’s in.
Now for the moment of truth: switch on computer. Erm, no, first switch on monitor. Monitor does not come on. The green light does not light. What the fernandel is happening? Will it have to go back? Oh no! Give it a good poke with a tigerish fingernail. Aha! Greenly glowing light have we. Now switch on computer.
Yes! Oh yes! We have vision, most glorious vision! Most widely screened and glowingly colourful vision! But no sound. My music plays in vain and you can’t lip-read a midi file.
Back on hands and knees, poking around the back of the system box (so glad Tigger made me buy a trolley with wheels for the box so we can wheel it out easily), poking the jack into every hole I can find until… music! We have sound! My ear runneth over and my joy is complete.
A little experimentation with settings reveals a screen resolution that suddenly allows me to see all those blogs and Web sites that hitherto ran off the edge and needed me to scroll sideways to view them. Bonus.
Finally, though it seemed superfluous, I inserted the installation disc. You never know, there might be some extra bell or whistle therein.
“Needs Vista,” said the disc.
But we don’t have Vista, do we? We don’t even have any plans to have Vista. So the only option available is the last one: Quit.
But do I care? In a word, no: the monitor is great and my photos look fantastic. Our window on the online world is restored and it is a wider, more colourful window.