“Computers only do what you tell them to do.” That is a commonly-quoted but
totally inaccurate statement. I have never told any computer that controls so
much of my truck to do anything, at least that I know. I certainly did not tell
it to do what it did in Anacoco. If I had told it to do something, it certainly
would not have been to do what it did.
“Computers only do what you tell them to do.” That is a commonly-quoted but
totally inaccurate statement. I have never told any computer that controls so
much of my truck to do anything, at least that I know. I certainly did not tell
it to do what it did in Anacoco. If I had told it to do something, it certainly
would not have been to do what it did.
Someone told me there are at least six computers controlling various aspects
of my truck’s operation. The manufacturers of my truck, in their infinite wisdom,
believe that the computers enable my truck to be at peak performance. But those
same manufacturers do not have the wisdom to ensure the electrical cables attach
firmly and lastingly to the battery. I am not a technology expert, but even
I know the electrical cables must attach firmly and lastingly to the battery
or the automobile and its six computers and everything else shuts down, down,
down.
And that is exactly what my mechanical wonder did while I was driving it back
to town.
Traveling along at the breakneck speed of 45 miles per hour (that was the
speed limit, and I’m sticking to my story), the truck’s motor abruptly stopped.
Dead. Without warning.
Pulling to the road’s shoulder, I thought fondly, “Those four trips back to
the automotive repair shop apparently did not fix the problem.”
I popped the hood of the truck and got out to push the cables around until
they established firm, if not lasting, contact with the battery to get electricity
to the motor. No problem; contact was made.
As I walked around to get into the truck and continue my homeward journey,
a sickening “click” emitted from the doors.
“Oh, no, it can’t be. There is no way all the doors locked. I never told a
computer to do that. No one ever told me the computer would do that. It can’t
be.”
But it was.
A look inside revealed the ignition switch was on, the running lights were
on, the air conditioning was on, the radio was on. I was out. Locked out. The
key dangled brightly from the ignition switch on the steering column.
One of those magnetic boxes holding a spare key some place no one would think
to look had been hidden on the truck’s under side, until a friend of mine found
it and drove away my truck. The closest key at this point was in Alexandria,
and I am in Anacoco, a wonderful community but not a metropolitan area loaded
with services.
The nice ladies at the country, we-have-everything store were kind and helpful.
I overlooked their snickering as I told my sad tale.
“Had a lady lock her keys in her car week before last,” one said. “Only set
she had.”
“What did she do?”
“Called a locksmith out of Leesville.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-five bucks.”
Not cheap, I thought. But if my wife brings me the key from Alexandria, she
will lose some four hours of work, and that will cost more than the locksmith.
Plus, if she has to take the time and expend the effort to drive to Anacoco
because I miscommunicated with one of the truck’s computers …
“Can you please call that locksmith and ask them to come right over?”
She did.
The young man drove up to my old truck in his new sports model car. No one
wants to see someone upon whom one’s necessity rests drive up in a shiny new
sports car. A car payment may be due.
The young locksmith operated with the skill and swiftness of a grand auto
thief, and in less than one minute, my truck door stood wide open. So much for
feeling secure when you lock your car doors to protect all the valuables you
do not want to carry with you. He takes my money and leaves.
The truck starts, and I head to Alexandria and the automotive repair shop,
the owner of which and I will probably send each other Christmas cards next
December since we have become so well acquainted.
Power. Regardless of how many computers you have or how much horsepower under
the hood, if you are not connected to the power supply, you are not going very
far. Actually, all your potential becomes a lifeless burden.
Seems a lot of churches are well equipped with every program and purpose,
but somewhere along the line, they sadly lost their connection to the Power
Source. Fortunately, there is an excellent manual on how to get reconnected.