These days I am cautious of anything that shows up on my little flat screen. I have been extremely fortunate so far. Everything in my little computer world is functional. I have even learned to think in terms of this not being my little computer world, but rather my computer solar system. My friend Jerry reminds me frequently, with a smile, of course, that the printer, the scanner, the computer and the flat screen are separate planets. It's basically up to me to keep them from colliding with each other.

That fact occurred to me when I checked my e-mail and found that I was receiving. After receiving for five minutes I checked that little dialogue box that draws a picture for me, in case I don't understand words. Yes, it said happily, something is going in and in and in and in. That little arrow making the same motion over and over had a mesmerizing effect on me. Five minutes went by and more than five minutes and the message was the same. One of two messages kept right on coming in. I deprived my little solar system gently and carefully of all incoming energy; in other words, I panicked and pulled the plug. I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. It took me a little while to gather courage before I returned and started the entire system, carefully.

Once more I engaged my little post office. It started cheerfully, as good as new. I found myself identified, accepted and connected. I was receiving mail, receiving, receiving, receiving………. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the guru's words echoed. " What makes you think you solved a problem when you try the same solution time and again? Repetition tsk tsk tsk……….

I took some time thinking, hoping that whatever was coming through would eventually come through. I made up the bed. I treated the feline clan to an early breakfast. I poured myself another cup of coffee. I returned to my office to find the same thing still going on. By now illustrious Grandmama was ready to join the fracas.

"Verstopfung?" she inquired. When you deal in two languages you have to be careful how you translate. Constipated applies here as easy as stopped up. Metamusil might work for Old Faithful, according to the ad on TV. I did not want to try that on my PC. This time I closed the whole thing down correctly, told the grand old time that I would be available for consultation on the subject matter later on, and reached for the telephone. Thanks to Clarence I had a provider with availability, a quality rare these days.

It was a little after lunch before the phone call came through. I did not expect a cheerful feminine voice on the other end of the line, and I was pleasantly surprised. She told me that someone was sending me a picture 15000 … I started laughing before she finished the sentence. In my minds' eye I could see Clarence's face. Grandmama was right. That thing was "verstopft". It was the equivalent of the proverbial gnat attempting to swallow the proverbial rat.

"I can delete it if you like," said the friendly voice on the other end. I couldn't say, "please do" quickly enough.
Clarence, old friend, would you say that picture was as big as a house?

I spent the afternoon with a friend, patiently explaining that thing about kilobytes and megabytes. My friend and I spent some time on my computer, where we both could understand that pictures over the internet should not be larger than say 50 kilobytes, small enough to come through the system with something less than sixty seconds. It was an afternoon well spent. My Internet server or provider whatever title is appropriate informed me that I could reach their website with accommodations to check e-mail of a dubious nature. She did not think it was necessary for me to eliminate my address book. Sorry, by that time that advice was too late. So if you don't hear from me, it is because in a fit of anger and fear and other emotional overtones, I flushed that little gem down the proverbial tube. I will, however, reply to all the incoming mail. I will not open attachments. Grandmama keeps murmuring something about "Da ist der Wurm drin. (There is a worm)"She may just be right.