When I popped open the old laptop, the Geek Squad guy said maybe I should dust it off.
He slid a canister of Endust toward me. "Spray the cloth," he said, "not the machine."
I started choking on my sense of humiliation. This poor baby was covered with dust. How could I be so careless and lackadaisical toward the technology at the center of my life? And I hadn't even realized the extent of my indifferent maintenance until the computer crashed and I had to rush it to the tech doctor.
I had been in the process of writing a column. I was researching the Central American refugees recently tear-gassed as they struggled toward the U.S. border. They were...