MICROSOFT HELP FOR DUMMIES (called "Restore Point")

MICROSOFT HELP FOR DUMMIES (called "Restore Point")

1) Turn your computer on by pressing the "Start" button or switch. After several minutes of flickering and flashing on the monitor, things settle down and what you see is called the "desktop." Because the desktop is vertical, you can't put anything on it, but that doesn't mean it is clean. Like horizontal desktops, the vertical kinds are also cluttered. The monitor is cluttered with what they call "icons." In Greek and Russian Orthodox Churches, icons are to be worshipped, but computer icons are just little pictures or symbols that do nothing unless you "click on them." This is done using a remote similar to a TV remote. Someone has nicknamed it "The Mouse," because it is often connected by a wire that resembles a mouse's tail. It really looks more like a beetle. When you move the mouse around, an arrow moves on the monitor. With a little practice, you can move the arrow over an icon with the remote. Now you press the left mouse button (or beetle wing) two times in rapid succession on the icon to open a program. Clicking on icons with the left mouse leg allows you to do just about anything with the computer, but for now, go to step #2.

2) Click on the "Start" icon with the left mouse button. Never mind that the computer is already started. If it wasn't, you couldn't find it. The start icon is normally at the extreme bottom left of the desktop (monitor). If you press on this, a "window" will open (that is why they call it a "Windows machine"). At the bottom of the window, you will see a little arrow and the words "All Programs.“ Place the cursor over the little arrow by moving your mouse and watch what happens. In an instant you see a column or two of icons with names next to them. These are called "program folders,“ but you can think of them as compartments. You will note that many of these folders or compartments have tiny black arrows next to them. This indicates the presence of sub compartments or folders. If you move the cursor up or down this list without pressing the mouse button (called "hovering" in the computer and helicopter language), you will note that more lists appear wherever you see a small arrow. You never know how many sub-compartments there are until you click on one that has no little arrow next to it. The departmentalizing of folders is called "Hierarchy" in the computer language, and it is similar to the structure of governmental institutions and the Vatican. The highest ranking folder has the greatest power of control, but the actual work is performed in the lowest ranking department.
3) Move the cursor over the green arrow by pushing the mouse in the appropriate direction without pressing any mouse buttons! Now slide it across to the columns of program files until you see a compartment called "Accessories." When the cursor hovers over this folder, another list appears. Now, move the cursor until it hovers over the folder "System Tools.“ Another list opens. Move the cursor to the compartment "System Restore.“ Now you can click the left mouse button to open this secret Microsoft tool.

4) After opening "System Restore,“ you see three options on the right side of the window. The top one says, "Restore my Computer to a Previous Time.“ This really has nothing to do with time, but should read "happening." It refers to the last time you did something TO your computer like set up an e-mail account, install a program or add new hardware. You are not going to restore anything at this time, but after messing around with your computer, you may want to use this. This item is normally checked, but you need to click the box in the second line which says, "Create a Restore Point.“ It's okay, go ahead and click on this box!

5) Now click "Next" at the bottom of the window. You get a new window with a blank in which you can type a meaningful name like "Just in Case I Mess Things Up" (upper case, lower case or mixed makes no difference). I type in the date too, just so I know when I created this Restore Point.

6) Once you have named your Restore Point, click on "Create" at the bottom of the page. Now you can close the window and mess around with the computer as planned. There are many things people do TO their computers, especially when they don't do what they are supposed to do. But now that you have created a Restore Point, you will no longer be tempted to throw things at it or to throw it at things.

7) If all goes well and the computer functions the way you hoped it would, you can just forget the "Restore Point" you made. It will stay there and hurt no one. If, however, your computer starts to do all kinds of strange things and gives you error messages or tells you that you have a problem; you will be happy you followed the above steps in creating a Restore Point. Your computer may suggest that you send a message to Microsoft, but I advise against this because your message will only be read and answered by a computer that has been programmed by the same people who caused your problems in the first place. And they never make mistakes. Only paying customers and perhaps other software manufacturers do that.

8) In a worst case scenario, your computer crashes and you have to press the Microsoft equivalent of 911 (or is it 9/11?). Press the "Control/Alt/Delete" buttons simultaneously. If this doesn't work, unplug the computer and then plug it in again. You may have to crawl under your desk to find the plug, so it may be easier to turn the main breaker in your fuse box off and on. You will have to re-program all your radio station set buttons and reset your digital clocks, but that can wait. After restoring the electric supply, you can hopefully restart your computer.

9) If the computer starts, follow the instructions at point 3 above. This time you leave the first item checked and click on it with the mouse. You will see a calendar with the current date on it. To the right is the Restore Point you just created. Click on this and you can restore the computer to the way it was before you messed it up. Whatever problem you hoped to solve will still be there, but at least your PC should work (or malfunction) like it did before you made the Restore Point.

10) If the computer refuses to start up again, go to the nearest computer store and purchase a new PC. This is always easier and cheaper than trying to get the old one fixed.

TELEPHONE, PART VI

We are writing the year 2007 and much has changed in the field of technology. We now live in the "land of unlimited opportunity" as the Austrians label America. I am typing this on a 5-year-old PC, the 13th computer that I have owned since 1984 (if I didn't miss any). Although my present computer is considered "old" by geeks, it has a cable modem and wireless capability.
My first computer was a Commodore 64, whereby the 64 stands for kilobytes of memory, about one tenth the size of the smallest photo my digital camera produces. That computer was great! You just turned it on, shoved in a floppy disc and went to work. Each successive computer I bought had more memory and was supposedly faster, yet for some reason, it took increasingly longer to get them up and running. My present PC needs about five minutes to load Windows and McAfee before I can do anything at all with it. If I want to get email or write a letter, I must load other programs and that also takes time. By the time everything is finally loaded into memory, the cable modem kicks in and a message pops up, telling me that an important update is downloading or McAfee is doing a scan of all my hard discs. While this is happening, another "pop-up window" appears to inform me that I can continue working while the computer does these important tasks in the background. But I can only continue at half the speed of a Commodore 64 and must tolerate some spitting and stuttering. And just when I am in the middle of an important task, another message pops up to tell me that my computer is shutting down and restarting in order to activate whatever it was doing while I was working.
It has become possible to telephone via Internet if you subscribe to "all three" - broadband, television channels and telephone - for only $99 per month for one year. After one year, the price goes up, but they won't tell you how much even if you ask. This is of course for the basic package, but you will need an upgrade if you want Fox News or another channel worth watching. We only watch Jeopardy, which we can get with an old-fashioned roof-top antenna for free. We don't use our phone enough to warrant internet telephone service, so we subscribed to broadband only. That was hassle enough!
There was a Comcast cable in our house when we purchased it, but it was not activated. We kept getting calls and letters, encouraging us to have it hooked up for $99 per month, but we declined. I asked if we could just get cable for the Internet and they said, "Yes, for $99 per month." Verizon has many special offers, but whenever we called, they always said that we couldn't get it in our area. And we won't be getting it in the foreseeable future because they need money to advertise services they can't deliver.
Comcast has a monopoly in our region, so they don't normally have special offers. So, for 4 years, we made do with analog Internet access via a telephone line that only cost $19.95 per month plus many hours of waiting for unwanted attachments to load onto the computer so we could erase them and finally get the email we wanted to read.
Finally, someone in the advertising department at Comcast made an offer that we jumped on. Because people were not buying their offer of only $99 per month for one year, they offered all three services for only $19.99 each per month for three months, after which the regular price would kick in (as stated in the fine print). The offer was only good for one week shortly before Christmas. I would normally have tossed the ad in the trash can, but one word caught my attention. The ad said we could choose to subscribe to digital cable TV "and/or" high-speed Internet. In other words, we didn't have to subscribe to all three! Furthermore, the cost of just high-speed Internet would be only $57 after the three months were up. I called and a serviceman came the following day. I showed him the ad and asked if Comcast would keep its promise. He made a phone call and confirmed the matter.
Now that we have broadband, it only takes seconds to get tons of spam and a few emails. Before you can get either, however, you must wait several minutes for the firewall to load. A firewall is a program that is supposed to filter out viruses and spam, but you still need to delete all the spam that was disguised as real mail and then go to the quarantine folder to retrieve email that inadvertently got labeled as spam.
When the first bill from Comcast arrived, it was for the full amount. Verna paid the bill to keep from getting fined, but wrote a note saying that we had been overcharged and should receive credit. The next month's bill was also for the full amount, so Verna called Comcast. I refuse to make such calls, spending hours listening to elevator music, advertisements and electronic voices (have you ever noticed that there are no male electronic voices?) that tell you which buttons to push. If I ever got a real person on the other end of the line, the temptation would be to unload all my frustrations on that poor soul. If I did, they would respond by placing our number on their "do-not-answer-calls" list. I know from personal experience!
Verna pushed buttons and listened to the ads, music and electronic female voices for quite a while until she made a fascinating discovery. She accidentally pressed a button that was for purchasing something. She got a real live person on the other end, who connected her to another real live person, who solved the problem! You know it is a real person if it is a masculine voice. The man was very nice and apologized for the mistake. He even offered to extend the $19.99 per month offer for three additional months! Miracles still happen.
Ralph V. Harvey, May, 2007
Index

CHAPTER 33 - LEFTOVERS

When I was a kid, my mother had boxes upon boxes of writings, pictures, magazine articles and other items stacked in our basement, labelled "Miscellaneous." I believe her offspring put them in a dumpster on one of the "Harvey Work Days." Because this book is titled "Chips and Crumbs" I thought "Leftovers" would be a more appropriate heading for this chapter than "Miscellaneous." Readers may not be as likely to toss out its contents.
In all those years of cooking for camps, conferences, seminars, churches and the Bible Institute, Verna became an expert at making good use of leftovers. Students in the Bible Institute looked forward to Fridays, which they dubbed "The Week in Review."
She started to compile a recipe book titled, "Leftovers" but didn't get very far. The index contained ingredients rather than recipes. If a housewife had something left over in the refrigerator, she would only need check the index to discover what she could make with it. Verna has plenty of material, but was never a diligent writer, so the book is still just a great idea for a book that would sell much better than mine. Have you ever seen a cook book for leftovers?

VACATION IN THE COUNTRY

A young couple that met in our youth center and got married bought a weekend house in the country. They said we could use it free for a vacation. The house was built around 1750 and had not been altered much since. One large room served as a kitchen, living room and dining room all in one. A woodshed at the rear of the house doubled as a toilet and shower room. A constant flow of water came from an artesian well on the hillside above the house and was piped into the kitchen sink. For a shower, there was a bucket with holes punched in the bottom. Verna fell in love with the ancient ceramic oven. To cook, you simply slid the pot or pan to wherever the heat was right and there were three ovens for baking! One oven had lower heat, another upper heat and a larger oven had both. The same oven heated the house in winter, dried clothes and provided hot water from a copper tank built into the chimney. We slept in the hayloft over the living area. With all that luxury, who needed electricity?
We had a delightful vacation, with long hikes through the forest, watching deer and rabbits from the window while eating a breakfast of homemade bread from the wood oven, fresh milk and hand-churned butter from a nearby farmer. Except for an occasional airplane in the sky overhead, there was not a sound to be heard. We joked that it was so quiet; you could hear butterflies flapping their wings!
One day Becky came running to the house with something in her hand. We were sitting next to an open window, so she ran up and showed us her trophy. "Mommy; Daddy!" she said breathlessly, "I found a four-leaf clover!" Verna looked at the clover and exclaimed, "That is a five-leaf clover!" Becky at first looked dejected, but then in her impulsive, carefree manner, she ripped off a leaf and cried triumphantly, "Now it's a four-leaf clover!"
That same winter, we had another romantic vacation week in the same house. In winter, the fire in the ceramic oven kept us cozy and warm. At night, the trap door to the hayloft would be opened to allow the heat to rise, but it was still plenty cold upstairs! The ground was covered with two feet of fresh snow and we had fun sledding and tubing with the kids.
Those two vacations were the nicest we had ever had and also the cheapest!

AUSTRIAN SCHOOLS

Some American teachers try to be "buddy-buddy" with their charges and allow students to call them by their first names. Austria is much different!
A student in Austrian schools soon learns the all-important classroom protocol. One of these is that the student must raise his or her hand and wait for recognition before speaking. The student is only to speak when called upon and always to stand before speaking. Because students are often humiliated by the teacher in front of the whole class when they give a wrong answer, students are not eager to raise their hands. More often, the teacher calls on the student by name. When replying to a question, the student must stand, address the teacher properly and not be seated until told to do so.
When addressing a teacher, the student must include both the name and title of the teacher. "Frau" or "Herr" indicates gender. An unmarried female is normally addressed as "Fräulein", but most single teachers prefer to be called "Frau," especially if students are older. In a restaurant, the opposite is the rule. Even married waitresses are addressed as "Fräulein." "Herr Lehrer" or "Frau Lehrerin" is the lowest title in the educational hierarchy. Any acquired educational degree or special position must also be included when addressing a teacher. It would be an open affront to address someone with a Masters degree without including "Magister" and a college professor with a doctorate would be called, "Herr Doctor Professor ----."
This custom spills over into everyday Austrian life. There is a nice sounding title for every occupation and position. Even the woman who cleans public toilets has a title. Making reference to a Doctor in America generally means a medical doctor. In Austria, medical doctors usually have additional titles such as "Medizinalrat,“ "Primarius,“ "Chefarzt,“ "Professor" or a combination of the above. Incidentally, a Professor is one step up from a Doctor.
Austrians tell the story of a little farm boy, who had the misfortune of being in a class visited by the "Herr Doktor Oberschulinspector" (English equivalent: "Mr. Doctor District School Superintendant") on his first day at school.
The teacher was new and very nervous about this visitation so early in the school year. Nevertheless, he did his best to instruct the children in proper manners and especially on how to address the School Superintendant. When he entered the classroom, the children stood and greeted him in chorus, "Good morning Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!" The Superintendent greeted the teacher and children properly with a friendly smile. He then pointed to a lad in the first row and asked "What is your name?" The boy nervously stammered, "My name is Sepp." The teacher gave Sepp a stern look and he quickly added the mandatory words, "Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer."
The Superintendent frowned and replied, "Sepp is your nickname. You should always give your proper name when asked. Your Christian name is , JO-seph!" Turning to the next lad, he asked his name. The boy also addressed the Superintendent properly, but he too just gave his nickname, Hans. Impatiently, the Superintendent upbraided him saying, "That is your nickname! Your parents may call you Hans, but your Christian name is JO-hann!" He then turned to little Kurt, who was by this time trembling in his shoes, deathly afraid that he could make the same mistake. "What is your name, young man?" Kurt replied haltingly, "My parents call me Kurt, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer, but my Christian name is JO-kurt." Because that sounded like yogurt, everyone had a good laugh. From that day on, Kurt had a nickname!
Austrians like to follow that story up with another. I must first explain that the Austrian government pays for the education and salaries of church appointed teachers, whose job is instructing school children in their church's religious doctrines. Only official State recognized churches such as the Roman Catholic and Lutheran Churches have this privilege. Because our children were not members of a recognized "state church", they were classified as "having no religion" on school documents. Now, I will continue with the story.
The children had just come from their Religious Instruction class, so the Superintendent turned to one of the girls and asked, "What did you learn in Religious Instruction Class, young lady?" Dutifully, the girl replied, "We learned the Ten Commandments,“ completely forgetting to address him as "Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer." With a stern voice, she was reprimanded for this omission. Turning to the class, he asked, "Who can name me one of the Ten Commandments?" No hands went up for fear of making a mistake, so the Superintendent pointed to the students in the third row and said, "From left to right, I want each of you to name one of the Ten Commandments." By now, all the students had learned their lesson well and one after the other, they named the commandments.
"Thou shalt worship God and him only shalt thou serve, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not make any graven images, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt observe the sabbath and keep it holy, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt honor thy father and mother, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not kill, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not commit adultery, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not steal, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not lie, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

"Thou shalt not covet, Mr. Doctor District School Superintendent Meierhofer!"

Unfortunately, teachers are not held to a similar protocol of politeness when addressing students. When our children started school they all went through a kind of culture shock. For any insignificant reason, the teacher would rant and rave, calling the children all kinds of unflattering names. While most of the children were accustomed to such outbursts in their home situations, this was something totally new for our offspring. The others just sat and waited until the storm passed, but our children broke into tears. Austrians consider this to be a sign of weakness and teachers let our children know what they thought about "cry babies.“

LAW AND GRACE

As a teenager, I harvested many traffic tickets.

Even after moving to Frankenmarkt, the church in Ampflwang often asked me to preach or give Bible studies. I was asked to teach a series of Bible studies on differences in our beliefs as evangelicals and Roman Catholics. One of the lessons happened to be on my birthday and Verna invited Richard and his family over for the noon meal and a birthday party.

My theme was Law and Grace and I didn't have as much time to prepare as I would have liked. I taught our students to always illustrate, but I had not found a good illustration. God gave it to me on the way to the church.
In Austria, most people have two sets of tires on rims for summer and winter. It was March 8th and the forecast was for a mild spring. My winter tires were well worn so after Rick and his family left, I decided to have the summer tires mounted at a service station. I had to wait a bit longer than planned and it was getting late, so I called Verna and told her to be ready to hop in the car when I got home.
Verna was ready and we were soon headed for the church Bible study. I had to stop at a railroad crossing and wait for a train. When the gates were finally raised I soon came up behind a truck with a wide load, which was barely creeping for about five kilometers. When the truck finally turned off, I gave the car gas only to get stopped by the police just inside the town limits.
With a sigh, I reached for my daily journal in which I kept my drivers liscense. I always carried it in my shirt pocket, but it was not there! I remembered that our granddaughter had been trying to steal it, so I handed it to Verna under the table. I asked her, "Do you have my pocket calender?" It was at home on the kitchen counter! Meanwhile the policeman had also noted that my removable trailer hitch was still on the car and it partially hid the tag. The policeman summed up my offences and reached for his pad and pen. In desperation, I tried to appeal to his sympathy by explaining. "We were celebrating my birthday and our granddaughter…" The policeman interrupted, "Aha! You've been drinking too!"
I was able to convince him that I had not been drinking but confessed to the other charges. He must have been a father as well, because he said that he would let me off with a warning.
When we arrived at the church, the believers had finished singing and I was on for the Bible lesson. During the Bible study, I said, "Roman Catholics feel that they must do good works or pay something for remission of sins. They say that grace alone is not enough." I suddenly realized that God had given me the perfect illustration! I told of my experience on the way to church and said, "If that happened to a Roman Catholic, do you think they would reject grace and insist on paying the fine?"
ONE THIRD CENTURY ANNIVERSARY

I thought it was an original idea to celebrate a third of a century of marriage. Who ever heard of such a thing? We were married on March 9, 1963, so if you add 122.7 days you come to July 9, 1996. I took note of this date in my pocket calendar. We had offered to take care of two boys sometime when their parents wanted to take time off to be alone. Walter called and asked if we could take them on July 9th and we agreed. They would bring their bikes.

Verna had complained that her brakes were not working properly and one wheel had a broken spoke, so I took it to a shop to get repaired. I picked it up on July 9th. After lunch we got out the bikes, checked the tires and set out for a nice tour of the countryside. About half a kilometer from our home, the road leads down a hill and there was no need to pedal for a while. I was leading and Verna was at the rear. I saw the boys were keeping up with me and let my bike roll a little faster to the bottom. When I arrived and looked back, there was no one in sight. I turned and pedalled back up the hill until I came upon three bikes and Verna lying on the ground. A car was stopped and the driver was leaning over Verna with the boys looking on. She had lacerations on her face, legs and arms and a sharp pain in her shoulder. The driver was kind enough to drive Verna back to our house while I rode back with the boys pulling Verna's bike beside me.
Verna said that the younger boy decided he was going too fast and braked just in front of her. She turned the wheel of her bike and stepped on the back-pedal brakes, which worked so well, they threw her over the handlebars.
I doctored up her scrapes as best I could and decided to take her to the emergency room for exrays. The doctor said that others were waiting and it would be over an hour before they got to her. Then they would need to bandage her arm or possibly apply a plaster cast. I decided to take the boys back to our house and return when she was finished. When the hospital called, the boys said that they didn't want to come along. They wanted to stay at the house and play a board game. I agreed and said that I would be back in less than an hour.
I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach from all the excitement, but was soon on my way back to the hospital. Driving through a small town, a hidden police car pulled out just after I passed - driving at slightly over the limit. I explained my urgency, but he took his time writing out the ticket and lecturing me on the importance of obeying all traffic laws. By the time he was finished, I had diarrhea and hoped that I could make it to the hospital in time.
I didn't, and I warn all readers not to celebrate a one third century anniversary!
MORE TRAFFIC STOPS

About a year before we departed Austria for "retirement," My sister Helen and her husband Craig came to visit us. It was late spring and the snow was beginning to melt in the valleys, but I drove to Gosau, where there was a lift and snow. On the way home, Helen asked, "Ralph, do you still get as many traffic tickets as you used to get?" I said, "No, I haven't gotten a ticket in years!" It could not have been more than a minute after making that statement when I was pulled over by a local cop. I could hear muffled laughter in the back seat and Verna was staring in disbelief. Austrian driver's licenses are issued for life and printed on a special material that is made to last. When I handed mine to the officer, he looked at the well-worn paper and tore it into two pieces! He claimed that it was an accident, added that I needed to get a duplicate at the motor vehicle agency, and let me go with a warning.

In theory, the police are there to protect citizens and keep people abiding by the laws. If everyone one obeys the laws and are safe, the police should be very happy, but everyone knows that this is seldom the case. The wide and straight street leading out of Frankenburg tempts drivers to exceed the town's speed limit, so local police are often lurking in the shadows, hoping to catch them.
Normally, I am at the wheel when both of us are in our car. Verna always warned me when I drove that stretch of road, but for whatever reason, Verna was driving one Sunday and I was her passenger. Since she was doing my job, I should have been doing hers, but I remained quiet when she sped up going out of town. Sure enough, she was pulled over by a policeman, who asked to see her license and registration. As I reached into the glove compartment for the registration an audible chuckle escaped my lips. I could tell by Verna's countenance that she did not appreciate my sense of humor. She got off with a friendly warning but I received a stern lecture about my inappropriate behavior.

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