Crossing over to the dark side

I have been humbled. My superiority has been thrown out the window. I don't have a clue what I'm doing on my computer, not that there was a lot to work with in the first place.

I am now an official user of a PC.

As a lifelong fan and customer of Apple, I avoided every other type of personal computer throughout the years. From my first keystrokes through college papers typed out at 3 in the morning, I relied upon an Apple computer the entire time.

Occasionally, I would be forced to use someone else's PC. Every time, I would stumble through the document, doing just enough to get done and get off the computer. I could hear the Apple calling my name.

But now, a PC graces my home desk.

I'm so new to this PC business that I keep knocking my knee or stubbing my toe on the CPU unit sitting on the floor, forgetting that I must have this hulking piece of equipment just to make the computer work.

Sure, I still have my Mac, but it's age is starting to show.

The disc drive spins like it has a disc inside, although I'm fairly certain the drive is empty. (I'm not 100 percent positive since some unnamed owners of small fingers may have shoved something imperceptible inside without my knowledge.)

The mouse must be cleaned regularly, i.e., every 30 seconds, in order to move an inch across the screen.

But on my Mac, I could still whiz across the programs, finding everything I need in just a few seconds (when the mouse lets me). All the icons can be picked up and moved to where ever I want them to be. And when my kids inevitably put something where it shouldn't be, I could usually remedy the problem with just a few quick keystrokes or when all else failed, reboot the computer.

Now, I have bigger fish to fry.

I've become paranoid about viruses and security and updates. I never worried about a virus working its way through my Mac. With the small number of Macs out there on the market, virus creators didn't worry about building something for us. The PCs were their target and up until now, I was immune in my eyes.

Never had to worry about viruses before. Firewalls were for other people. Those people with PCs.

When I'm not worried about something foreign creeping and crawling through my computer, I'm trying to master the programs dedicated to a PC.

During my limited prior use of a PC, it was my badge of honor not to know how to use Word or deal with Microsoft. Now I'm struggling with the simplest things like finding something I know I have saved, usually three or four times, all likely in different locations.

I do a little happy dance when I change the screen saver on the monitor.

And everything on my computer will be read in Times New Roman, 12 pt, for the foreseeable future, or at least until I take the time to figure out the different formatting procedures.

On the other hand, I'm waiting for the moment when I encounter a problem large enough that I will need outside assistance.

No longer will I be that "problem caller," the person on Line 3 with a Mac question. In the past, my questions were usually answered with dead silence, followed by a stammered, "I'm not sure where that would be on a Mac."

I assume when I call now with a technological question someone will actually be able to help me, taking me by the hand and walking me, keystroke by keystroke, to find the answer.

Do I see myself in a long-term, dedicated relationship with this PC? No chance. I walk past my old Mac, yearning to pull up iMovie. I can hear the Apple catalogs, calling me to cross back over. I daydream about those old days when I had a semi-clue what I was doing on the computer.

-- Ronda Graff knows the basics of using a PC, but usually calls in her nine-year-old son for assistance with the hard stuff.